


Soothe the Savage Beast

by haveahiddles (redvelvetrose), SincereJester



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvelvetrose/pseuds/haveahiddles, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincereJester/pseuds/SincereJester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RP between haveahiddles and sincerejester (both on tumblr). We wanted to introduce Sigyn in to the Marvel movie-verse in a non-intrusive, but psuedo-canon way. This RP mostly covers how Loki and Sigyn first met and how their relationship progressed (or didn't) through the movies as they stand now (post-The Dark World, pre-Avengers 2, pre-Thor 3).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soothe the Savage Beast

Sometimes she wished she’d never come to the palace, that she’d stayed in her little village in Vanaheim, safe with her own people. Yes, to be called to be one of the Queen’ handmaidens was an honour beyond recognition; but to a sensitive child far from home, honour was a very vague concept. Nor was it terribly comforting. Amora and Lorelei were both so good at every spell Frigga taught them; illusion and conjuring and enchantments. Sigyn, however, struggled in all but one field of magic: healing.

What good was healing when Asgardians healed themselves within a few moments? Amora had laughingly demanding of her young classmate. Perhaps she would be better off on Migard, where mortals were constantly plagued with sickness and disease and injury. She might fit in better there among animals.

Sigyn had fled Amora’s merciless teasing, never seeing Frigga take Amora aside, speaking to her sharply for the first time in memory. Soft-shoed feet fled from the Queen’s library, turning corners and running down empty hallways so that no one would see her tears. So, her feet found smooth flagstone paths and she followed them, the lure of warm sunshine calling her outside. The Queen’s own garden was a sanctuary that only members of the royal family were permitted to enter. But, Sigyn found she was in no state to concern herself with such things. She crept among the flowers and trees, all in glorious full bloom. Still sniffling, blonde curls in disarray, she sat in the grass at the base of a young tree, climbing roses curling around its trunk and up into its branches. In bright bursts of red and pink and white flowers, the perfumed air seemed softer here… soothing.

In the sheltered corner of the garden, Loki dipped a cupped hand into one of the fountain pools. He drew up a full palm of water, his dark eyes focused on the shimmering liquid as he moved his other hand over it. Soft ribbons of green and blue wove around it, weaving the water into a floating sphere. Smiling, Loki twisted his fingers around the ball, making it dance in the dappled light.

The rustling of the grass deep in the garden made him freeze, the water bubble bursting in a glittering fall of droplets. Frowning at them as they fell back into the pool, he slid silently across the side of the wall, peering through the glare on the abundant greenery. He often spent time in the garden to practice the small tricks his mother, the queen, taught him, or to read or simply spend some time alone. 

The soft patter of footfalls rushed along the pathway. Golden copper curls bobbed among the tall grass, vanishing under one of the trees entwined with flowers with a gentle sigh. Not his mother, of course, but who else would wander here? 

Drawing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her little arms around her head, Sigyn curled into a tight ball, trying to muffle her crying, curls falling over her shoulders. She wanted to go home… except Vanaheim wasn’t home anymore, was it? It would be disgraceful to go back, even if she knew how to get herself there. It wasn’t as if she could walk up to Heimdall and ask him to open the Bifrost for her. And transporting herself from one place to another by magic was well beyond her rudimentary abilities.

She was just so lonely! Back on Vanaheim, there was any number of other children to play with. But here… she only knew a handful of children her age. Amora and Lorelei didn’t like her at all. Sif was always off with the prince and his older friends. And she had not yet even met the younger prince formally, not that she thought a prince would want to be friends with a little handmaiden… let alone one who struggled with her lessons.

Surprised and a bit curious, Loki moved silently away from the wall. A girl, or what looked like a girl, anyway, but either way an intruder. Loki wasn’t so quick to approach this stranger in his haven: it would not be the first time he was subject to an unexpected test, and he was suspicious. He could sense the magic in the little figure, a green magic in more ways than one. He peered at her from the grass, debating what to do. 

Thinking to draw on his royal privilege, he decided to boldly confront her. Stepping onto the pathway, he strode forward, but his ready challenge went unspoken. She was crying, softly, and it did not seem that she would welcome his company. Perhaps a gentler approach was wiser. 

He paused halfway up the path, palms open in a gesture of cautious peace. “Hello,” he said, his voice calm and welcome. “Don’t be frightened! Who are you, and what brings you here, to the queen’s garden?” He paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Has someone hurt you; my brother, maybe? He sometimes forgets his manners.”

She gasped and looked up at him, wiping at her wet cheeks guiltily. “I… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to trespass. I just… I was trying to get away from… from…” she hiccupped before starting to cry again. Wonderful, now she was going to get into trouble too! "Please… please don’t tell anyone I came out here. I won’t do it again, I promise." She looked up at him pleadingly.

He was her age, so far as she could tell; maybe slightly older, already rather tall and straight-shouldered. Unlike the many blondes in Asgard, this boy had hair as black as pitch, combed straight back from his brow. He wore a tunic and trousers of simple cut, but of fine material. Sigyn blushed when she realized who he must be.

"Oh… I beg your pardon… Your Highness." she said, standing quickly and bobbing a quick curtsey, eyes downcast. "Forgive me… we have not formally met and… I did not yet know you on sight, Prince Loki."

Loki tilted his head and smiled. The girl was so utterly flustered, it amused him. By her clothes he could see that she was one of Frigga’s handmaidens, and a new one, at that. She was small and young and shy; not assets in the high court of Asgard. He came closer, leaning in. “I won’t tell on you,” he said, still smiling. “After all, you’re new here. But you didn’t answer my questions. It puts me at a bit of a disadvantage, not knowing your name, and how am I to seek justice for your tears, if I know not your reason for shedding them?” He casually folded his legs beneath him to sit near her, under the shade of the tree branches. 

"S-Sigyn, Your Highness." she whispered, swallowing hard. "I… I am one of the Queens new handmaidens… along with Amora and Lorelei. They are sisters." she added, although she had no idea why that was even an important detail. She watched him as he sat next to her, taking in the details. Loki was already tall for his age, taller than Thor if she was completely honest. Amora and Lorelei talked about him in excited whispers, about how handsome he was and how he was the Queen’s favourite son. They said he was naturally gifted with magic and that he was sure to be a very powerful sorcerer when he grew up. "You… you need not trouble yourself with my tears, Your Highness. It’s nothing. I am only… lonely, I suppose… and a bit homesick." She blushed, looking down.

“I am acquainted with Amora and Lorelei,” Loki remarked. He absently plucked up a blade of grass and twiddled it in his fingers. “Why seek solace alone, here, instead of the company of others, if you’re lonely? Tears are not ‘nothing’, Lady Sigyn, and I often concern myself with trouble, if I like.” He grinned at that, but not unkindly. “Do you think you are not suited for the queen’s service? Know that Queen Frigga does not choose her maids by whim, and so must have given some thought to your selection.” 

"I know not who to seek solace with. I do not really have any friends here. Amora and Lorelei… they don’t… they do not like me very much, I am afraid." she admitted, biting her bottom lip. "They are both so good at what Queen Frigga is teaching us and I’m… not good at it at all." she sighed, looking down at her hands, tears sliding over her cheeks again. "I do not know why she chose me… I cannot do anything useful," she said, mimicking his gesture and plucking a blade of grass… except she then re-fused it back together with a small, green flash of magic. She often did this with flowers and plants… Frigga had said it was good practice in order to make it instinctual.

“And that was not useful?” Loki commented, giving her a stern flash of his eyes. “If you can mend that which is broken, that is no small talent, even on Asgard. Even I cannot do that so quickly.” He held out the blade of grass to her. “My mother does not choose lightly, remember. A word, though--Amora and Lorelei may have been longer in the queen’s schooling, but that is no great advantage, if you do not allow it. Be patient and learn well until you will find what in them requires your repair.” He reached out with his empty hand, tracing down the trail of her tears. Two smooth gems dropped into his palm. “See, tears are not ‘nothing’,” he said softly, “but they should be rare and not shed without great reason.” 

She blinked, seeing the sparkling stones in his palm, her eyes now shining with curiosity. “You can change things? How did you do that?” she whispered, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she shifted to be closer to him, her little hands cupping under his hand. The little gems sparkled in the light. “You are… a shifter? You can turn one thing into something else. Make things appear that are not actually there.” she said, looking up into his eyes with an expression of wonder and awe and, yes, a hint of hero-worship. Usually this was a look that other directed towards Thor; strong, golden Thor. Not to sleek, dark Loki.

Loki gave a wide smile, genuinely pleased. The blade of grass dropped from his hand as he stirred the tears in his palm, making them click together. They shimmered in the light. “Clever of you to know the difference,” he said. “Yes, I am a shape shifter, and I’m also very good at illusions. But these aren’t illusions.” He tipped the gems into her hand beneath his. “They’re yours. Keep them.”

She seemed happier now, and Loki was glad for it. He was unused to having anyone look at him the way she did, and he had to admit he enjoyed it. It would be easy to think the girl was weak, but Loki knew his mother well enough to see that there was more to Sigyn than met the eye, and he was still curious about her. Well, his brother wasn’t the only one who could be charming if he wished. “Smiles suit your face better than sadness,” he said. He waved at the climbing roses, and the blooms began to flutter and nod, fluffing their petals like preening birds. A shower of petals rained down on them, and he laughed.

She laughed as well, pocketing the tiny gems and holding her hands up to catch some of the petals as they fell, blushing when they fell on her hair and cheeks. She stood, twirling about so that her skirts and curls flared out, the falling petals twirling around with her as she danced like a young wood nymph. “This is amazing! You are amazing!” she declared, hopping back over to him and taking his hands excitedly, her eyes shining. “Can you show me more? Please?” she asked sweetly, wanting to see more of his power. The only other person she knew who could do this sort of thing was the Queen, and Loki was only a child like herself.

She tugged at his hand, trying to get him to stand up. When he did, he was much taller than she was, head and shoulders above her. She smiled widely and then threw her arms around him, hugging him without warning. “I like you, Loki… you are wonderful!” she insisted with the certainty that only small children seemed to possess.

Delighted at her frank adoration, Loki grinned and lifted his palms up, sending the petals into a cloud hovering over them. They danced about and formed into butterflies, white and pink and red, flapping wildly around them and fluttering up into the branches. Chuckling, he waved his hands, fingers twisting and weaving through the air. Shimmering ribbons of green light streaked and danced around them like shooting stars. Loki spun Sigyn around, grabbing her hand. “Come with me,” he said excitedly as he led her down the path out of the garden.

Soft shoes skipping along the flagstone path, she followed him, having to run to keep up with his long strides. Stifling laughter since she was not technically supposed to be in this garden, she was still smiling broadly as they headed back inside. She had expected him to drop her hand and take his leave of her once they were back inside, but instead, he tugged her along through the hallways, past several guards and servants who mostly paid them no mind. “Where are we going?” she asked when they slowed down and Loki pressed himself against a wall, suddenly trying to avoid detection.

He pulled Sigyn back behind him, shushing her. For a moment, they were motionless and silent. With a quick peek around the corner, he turned back to her with a grin. “To the kitchens,” he said, his green eyes shining. “Magic is hungry work.” He glided along gracefully, moving soundlessly and without effort as he led Sigyn through the halls and down stairwells. He was enjoying this little romp, the chance to play with someone new. For once he was in charge, a position he rarely occupied when his brother was involved and one he knew he could easily grow to enjoy. The promise of stolen treats only added to his eagerness. 

"But we’re not allowed in the kitchens!" she protested, although she still followed him, looking about nervously for any sign of any adults nearby. Soon, they crept in, the kitchens deserted but for a sleeping cat, kept there to keep the mice out. They had chosen a precise moment, between the clean-up from lunch and the rush to prepare supper. Trays of cookies and tarts and small cakes sat out cooling. "Loki! We’re going to get into trouble!" she whispered, biting her bottom lip. Her whisper woke the cat, a sleek tabby that looked at them, yawned and then went right back to sleep.

“No we won’t,” he retorted, winking at the sleeping cat. “And who told you we aren’t allowed in the kitchens?” Rummaging around, he found a cloth and began piling baked goods onto it enthusiastically. Tying it up tidily, he thrust the packet into Sigyn’s arms. Ducking into one of the larders, he re-emerged brandishing two small bottles in one hand triumphantly. Scooping up a tart he popped it into Sigyn’s astonished mouth with a smirk, and then did the same for himself. “Let’s go,” he urged, scattering crumbs as he chewed. “They’ll be back any moment now.” 

She squeaked around the tart she was chewing on and hurried after him. Within moments, they were both safely tucked into an alcove near the library, neatly hidden behind one of the huge statues of Odin’s father, Bor. She laid out their stolen fare on the cheesecloth. “Won’t they miss these and ask where they’ve gone?” she asked a bit worriedly. If she got into trouble, what if they sent her home? Going home because she was homesick was pathetic enough an idea… being sent home for something like stealing would be humiliating beyond measure!

Loki smirked, working loose one of the bottle’s corks. “They might,” he said. “And they might blame my brother and his friends.” With a satisfying pop, the cork came out and he handed her the bottle before taking up the other one. He opened that one without difficulty and raised it to her before taking a long swig. “Don’t look so worried, Sigyn!” he exclaimed, snatching up another cake. “Even if we are found out, you won’t get in trouble; I will.” Looking not at all concerned, he continued with the picnic. 

"Well, I do not want you to get into trouble either!" she bit her bottom lip, although she took the bottle from him when he offered it, taking a sip of the sparkling juice inside. Still, when no one came after them, she began to relax, picking up one of the little cakes and nibbling at it. "My lady says you do like to get up to mischief." she commented, smiling a little from behind her coppery-gold curls.

“Does she?” Loki laughed. “Fair warned, then; I’m a master of mischief. Life here would be far too dull without it. Besides, someone has to keep the others humble.” He brushed a few stray crumbs from his front. “Speaking of which, what shall we plan for Amora and Lorelei? They should know better than to be so discourteous, as the queen’s chosen ladies and pupils.” 

"What?" She frowned, blinking at him. "We do not need to do anything to them! Why would we? I think my lady already gave them a talking-to." she said, remembering Frigga’s stern look to the other girls just before she had run off to the gardens to cry. She bit her bottom lip, looking at Loki."Why… why would you want to play a trick on them? They haven’t done anything to you, have they?"

“It would hardly be mischief if there was reason for it,” Loki commented. “And if you feel my mother has dealt with them, then…” He shrugged, letting it go. Amora and Lorelei were Frigga’s students as much as he was, and Amora was quite skilled and clever. Loki was born with much of his magic and only required his mother’s guidance in honing his skills, while he knew the girls had to work hard to achieve what they had. He couldn’t fully hide his disappointment, though: while it was true that they hadn’t done anything to him directly, he felt cheated of the chance of showing off for Sigyn. 

"Well…" she reconsidered. “Talking to Amora does not usually yield any results. The only time she seems to respond is to threats of some kind. But you won’t hurt her, will you? I wouldn’t want her to be harmed in any manner. Maybe just a little scare or… annoyance?" she said. "Did you have s-something in mind?" she asked before nibbling on another tart, squeaking when a bit of powdered sugar puffed up against her face and landed on the front of her dress.

Loki gave a low chuckle. “I think I can manage a little annoyance,” he said, leaning forward to brush away the dusting of sugar. He shook his fingers and the sugar began to drift down from his hand as tiny flakes of snow onto his knee. He liked her, and he hoped she would continue to be his friend despite her shyness. He realized suddenly that he had been feeling lonely, too: Thor was only slightly older than he, but they often found themselves spending time on separate things. Loki was acutely aware that their father had great expectations for the princes, but it seemed that the paths of achieving that were to be quite different. Both princes were well-schooled in academics and warfare, of course, but Loki knew himself to be far superior in diplomacy and tactics; vital to being the better choice as future king of Asgard. His brother was far more suited to being in charge of the military: his charisma was a trait Loki admired and made him a good leader, but he didn’t think Thor cool-headed enough to make the sometimes harsh choices that a leader of the Nine Realms must. In his heart, Loki knew he was the more worthy of that role. He could do it, and he would, some day. 

"What is it that you have in mind?" she asked curiously, assured that he would not do anything harmful to either girl. She was still child enough to want some form of revenge on her own for being made to feel so sad. Her serious expression gave way to a smile as he made it snow, flicking her fingers through it playfully. "They will be finishing up lessons soon… then they head to market to get a snack at the baker’s before supper." she said, knowing her class-mates’ schedules well.

“To the market…” Loki picked up one of the remaining tarts and regarded it thoughtfully. “Yes, I think I do have something in mind. Let’s go,” he said, brushing away the remaining clumps of snow, getting to his feet and gathering up the debris of their picnic. He discarded the trash in a bin carelessly, leading Sigyn toward the exit. “We have to get there before them.”

This time, she didn’t protest, taking his hand and scampering off with him, running through the halls and down through the stables, sneaking past the master of horses and outside before anyone saw them. They past the training field where Thor and Sif and the others were sparring, although Sigyn’s attention was firmly focused on Loki and where he was taking her.

Once they were in the market, she was panting softly from all of the running. It was not easy keeping up with swift Loki. “Now what?” she asked, hanging onto his sleeve.

“Now we hide…and wait,” he said with a grin. They found a spot with a clear view of the shop, Loki’s eyes shining again in anticipation. It wasn’t long before the sisters appeared and emerged from the shop with their treats in hand. Amora was about to do the unladylike act of consuming hers right away when Loki muttered something and pointed at her pastry. The pastry leapt up in a shower of crumbs and bit her on the nose. Amora let out a shriek of her own, her treat still firmly attached to her nose and growling. Lorelei looked completely startled, and then burst out laughing. Loki hadn’t forgotten her, though: Lorelei’s pastry rumbled and started howling. 

Sigyn squeaked and covered her mouth with her hands to stifle her laughter, watching both girls struggle with their sweets, shrieking and yelling like harpies. Amora had succeeded in getting her pastry off of her nose, but now was struggling to keep it from re-attacking. As such, she kept taking steps backwards, not noticing that the fountain was right behind her. One step. Two. Three. A fourth and there was a tremendous splash as she tripped over the low wall falling backward, rear-first into the water, her pastry pushing her back the rest of the way.

Lorelei meanwhile was struggling to keep her pastry quiet and still, and failing. The wrapper had fallen off and she was patting and shushing it like a mother soothing a squalling infant. Unfortunately the more she did so, the more she was damaging it, and her hand was quickly becoming coated with crumbs and jam. Looking around frantically, she started calling for her sister, who was still dripping in the fountain pool and batting at her cake. Loki couldn’t stop laughing. 

Sigyn clung to Loki’s shoulder, using him for balance to keep from falling over because she was laughing so hard. “Loki, enough! Enough! We don’t want to drown Amora!” she said, small fingers touching his wrist. “You can stop now--no sense in going too far,” she smiled.

The magic abruptly stopped and Amora fell once more from the sudden lack of resistance, all but face-planting in the fountain, while Lorelei’s pastry simply fell to complete crumbles on the flagstones. Sigyn ducked back around the corner, pulling Loki with her, still laughing. Her little hands dug into his shirt as she muffled herself in his thin chest.

They gave into complete laughter, Loki’s smile nearly ear to ear as they shook with mirth. “Well, they made you cry again,” he gasped, “But it’s better this way, isn’t it?” He slid down the wall, still giggling. “That was fun! They shouldn’t bother you any more, I should think!” He glanced over at Sigyn, rumpled and still shaking with laughter, her hair strewn across her face, and felt a very unusual thing: friendship. He didn’t have a sister, and playing with his brother was different—this was something his alone, and he felt like he wanted to keep it just for himself. “We have to get back,” he said, with some regret. “But…we can play together again, can’t we? Just us?” 

“Of course!” she nodded eagerly, still laughing, bright eyes shining. “You are far happier company than Amora and Lorelei! You’re nicer. And you’re better at magic than the two of them combined.” she assured him. Impulsively, she stood on her toes, pressing a happy kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’re friends, right, Loki?” she asked when she settled back on her heels.

Loki was startled by the kiss, as sudden and unexpected as it was, and never mind that it was the first he had ever been given. He felt even more protective and secretive of Sigyn. She called him her friend. She thought he was nice. And she could see quite clearly that he was the best at magic. “Of course we’re friends!” he exclaimed. “And we’ll have lots of fun together, you’ll see. We have to get back now, though. They’re probably looking for you, and I’m expected.” He took her hand and turned toward home, swinging it as they walked along. 

"We should hurry. My lady must be wondering where I’ve gotten to by now." she worried, though she did not quicken her step, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Loki before they had to part. She squeezed his hand as they walked, heading quickly back towards the palace, sneaking back inside like two shadows. Just outside of the library, their luck ran out as a door opened and Frigga stepped out, the two children nearly running headlong into her.

"Oh! My lady!" Sigyn squeaked, going white, freezing with her hand still clutched in Loki’s.

“Mother,” Loki said, with a bow. He kept a tight hold on Sigyn’s hand, hoping that they had arrived back before news of his prank had reached the queen. Sigyn followed his lead and gave a nervous curtsy. 

Frigga was as beautiful and stately as always, calm and stern before the two children. They had obviously been rushing around, flushed and rumpled and appearing very like carefree, happy children. Loki’s face was passive, well-schooled in the proprieties of court, but his protective hold on Sigyn’s hand spoke volumes to Frigga, and she approved. It would not be difficult for her to look to the future of the two, but she didn’t feel the need. Better to let it develop as it would. “Ah, there you are!” she said warmly, urging them up. “I trust you are well, Sigyn? And I see you’ve met my son, Loki.” 

“Yes, my lady. And I… I do apologize for running from the sitting room earlier today. I just… Amora and Lorelei were… they… what they were saying hurt my feelings." she explained, cheeks burning with shame. "I will not do it again, my lady, I promise. Loki was kind enough to look after me and calm me down." she said, eagerly giving Loki his due credit for her change in mood and heart. "He has been very sweet to me, my lady."

Rather than looking pleased, Loki looked a bit anxious at this praise, although it was confined to his eyes. He wasn’t sure how his mother would take this new interest in her maids. Still, she didn’t look upset. On the contrary, she was smiling at them. “You needn’t worry about Amora and Lorelei, Sigyn; it won’t happen again, I assure you,” she said, drawing Sigyn to her. Loki reluctantly dropped her hand. “Thank you for looking after her, Loki. Go on, now; you’ve your lessons to attend to. I will see you before the evening meal.” 

Wordlessly, Loki nodded with a bow. With a last long look at Sigyn, he turned and left, striding off with long steps away from them down the vast pillared hallway. 

Sigyn watched after him, hoping she would see him again, that he would keep his promise that they would play together again. Only when he was out of sight did she turn back to Frigga. “Am I in trouble, my lady?” she asked anxiously. “I did not mean to make Loki late for his studies. We were playing and… lost track of time. He was nice to me and made me feel better after what the other girls said.” she whispered. “Am… am I allowed to be friends with him, my lady? I really want to be friends with him… and he wants to be friends with me too.”

“If Loki has offered you friendship, then I would cherish it,” Frigga said with a smile. She led Sigyn along to her quarters. She set down on a long bench near the tall windows, patting the spot beside her for Sigyn.“Of course you may play together, provided neither of you neglect your duties and studies. You are not in any trouble, my dear, but perhaps you are missing your home more than you expected?” She smoothed the young girl’s errant curls gently. “Sigyn, you are very young to come into my service, but I know you will become a far better maid than the others. There are many types of magic, Sigyn, and some that may prove more valuable for their lack of glamour. In time you’ll understand that better, I hope.” Wrapping an arm around her little charge, she gave her a small hug. “Now tell me, what crafts have you learned on Vanaheim? I’m partial to spinning and needlework, myself. It is relaxing and I’d welcome an assistant.” 

"I have been missing home very much. But, when I was with Loki, I forgot to miss it," she said softly, biting her bottom lip. "I used to help my mama to spin. I would make certain the yarn did not tangle or snag." she nodded, looking up at the Queen eagerly. "If you would have me, I’d be happy to help you, my lady. And I did learn some embroidery, but I still find it a little hard to hold the needle. Mama said it would get easier as my hands grew surer."

“And they will, in time,” Frigga assured her. “Come then, let’s spin together and you may tell me more of Vanaheim. There will be plenty of time for Loki’s company, too—we are not all service and duty; there is time for play,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. This shy child was such a welcome change, so quiet and serious and dutiful after her charismatic students and sons. Yes, she was an excellent choice, Frigga felt.

***

It was the anguish in Thor’s eyes more than his urgent tone that rushed Sigyn along with him. “Lady Sigyn,” he had said, “Queen Frigga requests…come with me,” he stammered. “Help him…” 

Without pause she was on her feet and following the elder prince of Asgard, alarmed at his lack of composure. “What is it? What’s happened?” she asked. “Is it…Loki?” 

Thor said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes. They were out of the palace and rushing into the royal stables in mere moments. Sigyn had no time to even question why he had brought her there before the queen met them. “Thank you, Thor,” she said, taking Sigyn’s hand and pulling her along. “Go to your father now. We will do what we can.” That the queen was distressed was evident, more than Sigyn had ever seen her, but what could have caused it? 

Frigga threw open the gates on a stall at the back of the stable, wading into a deep nest of clean hay. A silky, dark horse was kicking and snorting in pain within, its long, curved neck tossing in panic. Frigga let Sigyn go, raising a hand to the creature, calling out to it to calm it. The horse paused, shivering as it tensed, its swollen belly rippling and tightening. It let out a loud whinny and panted, pawing at the hay as it strained. 

Sigyn swallowed hard, putting together the pieces in her head and quickly going to the horse’s side, stroking the elegant neck with one hand and reaching higher to stroke her forehead with the other. “Easy… easy, Loki… breathe. Just breathe. I’ll help you but if you flail about you’ll only hurt yourself more or hurt me.” she whispered, her voice low and soft and naturally soothing.

Loki had been called upon to help in some silly matter several weeks ago. Sigyn had not heard of the details other than Loki had to distract a stallion for some purpose and that he had done so by turning himself into a mare. A rather neat trick even for the most accomplished of shape-shifters. It took little imagination to figure out what kind of distraction had apparently ended up happening. Once Loki had calmed somewhat, Sigyn slid her hand from neck to belly, pressing inward to determine how far in progression the poor not-really-a-mare was. An already magic stallion like Svaðilfari and a shapeshifter in spell… whatever was growing in Loki’s womb would be interesting indeed."You’re going fast, but that’s normal. And the foal seems full-term." she said softly, both to Loki and Frigga. "You’ll want to lay down, Loki… it’ll be easier on you and safer for the foal."

Frigga helped guide Loki down to the straw. Sigyn took up position by Loki’s, or rather the mare-shape’s head. The panic seemed to have lessened with the women’s presence, but with each wave of pain, Loki still thrashed wildly, legs churning. Wisps of green light began to mist around Loki, weaving around in a shimmering haze as the form twisted and kicked. Both of the women moved back. One long scream tore out of the glow, and then faded down to expose a dark, wet foal curled in the hay, with a naked and shivering Loki in a heap next to it. 

The foal blinked and sneezed loudly. With a shake of its dark head, it gave a sharp whinny and eight spindly legs unfurled beneath it like a fan. Without taking her eyes off of the creature, Frigga reached back to close the paddock gate. Moving back forward, she looked beyond it to her son, taking up one of the blankets and covering Loki with it. “He lives,” she said with some relief. “Whatever else has happened at least he is alive! Thank you, Sigyn, your help was essential in this.” 

"I’ve done very little." Sigyn shook her head, shifting so that Loki was lying against her, head pillowed on her lap. "We shouldn’t move him just yet…" she said, her senses attuned to every shiver of pain and exhaustion, "He’s too sore and fatigued from everything." She pulled another blanket down and tucked it under Loki so he would be a bit more comfortable. Gentle hands slid over Loki, starting with his neck and slowly working her way down, fingers easing away the aches and pains so that he could rest more effectively. “You’ve exhausted your magic, Loki.” she whispered to him, not accusing, merely stating fact. “Just rest… I’ll take care of you. Everything will be all right.” 

The foal was struggling to get up, eight legs being harder to manage than the usual four. “My lady, I believe one of the other mares is nursing a foal… and she surely would not mind an extra mouth to feed.” Sigyn suggested, still tending to Loki.

With a nod, Frigga gathered the struggling little foal into her arms, having cleaned it off. Dry its coat was a soft, dappled grey. It nickered softly, sniffing the air. Loki stirred, fingers splayed out on the straw, too exhausted to even reach out toward them. “Rest, my son,” Frigga said. “Let Sigyn tend to you. We will care for the foal.” Leaning toward Sigyn she murmured, “I will return as soon as I am able. I must speak to the All-Father.” With a last long look at Loki, she left. 

Alone with the trembling prince, Sigyn continued her gentle healing, easing away the pain with a tender touch. Once Loki had stopped shaking, she tended to matters of comfort, using a clean cloth to wipe away the sweat clinging to his skin. She ran her fingers through his hair to set it somewhat to rights, knowing how vain Loki could be about it. She stretched out, shifting and moving him so he was half sitting up against her, his head against her chest. The sound of her heart would soothe him, she hoped.

"Loki…" she whispered his name as she stroked his back, resting her cheek on the top of his head. She wasn’t certain what to say to him. After a few moments, she simply started to hum an old song that Frigga had long ago taught her, one she knew Loki had probably heard since the cradle.

Loki sighed and let his mind drift in disjointed thoughts. Never had his magic and shifting been so greatly tried. He had not wanted to do this from the start, and that was before he realized just how complete a sacrifice would be required. Eyes tightly shut, he listened to Sigyn’s heartbeat and the soft rumble of her song. He tried to tap into a sense of time, a sense of the familiar surroundings of his skin, and it was just returning to him. Memory was coming back, fixating on months before…

He had thought it first an honor to have been included in council with Odin and the others, to design the fortifications of Valhala from intruders and the enemies of Asgard; a sign his father and his closest advisor valued his input. And they had, at least at first. 

The chosen builder was unknown to them, but offered to construct the walls within three seasons, a mere moment of time for so huge a task. It was his demands as payment that brought them to outrage: he would be given the sun, the moon, and Frigga’s favor. Not for the first time was her favor sought, but her tears spoke of her refusal of this. Frigga did not cry easily or without reason; she could see much that others could not, and although she would not speak of it, no one doubted that such a demand was unthinkable. None could sway the mason from his demand, until Loki stood before his mother and with Odin’s permission spoke in treaty. 

One season, not three, from winter to the dawn of the first summer’s day, was set as limit, and no other man could assist in the building, from the quarrying of the stone to the last setting of the gateposts. The mason balked at this, and well he should have, so impossible was the task under Loki’s terms. Yet he agreed, and Loki smiled to see Frigga dry her tears. The mason asked but one provision: that his horse is allowed as his tool and assistant in the task. 

The All-Father had approved this, as had all around him. And they had all called Loki clever and wise…until it was reported that the mason’s horse worked twice as hard as his master, and that the stones were quarried before even half the season was done. The walls rose quicker than could be imagined, for the mason and steed did not cease in their efforts for a moment, working night and day, until it was seen that the posts would be set and gates complete the night before the first dawn of summer. Then their praise of the council had become curses and accusations, but worse had been what Loki has seen in his mother’s eyes, of what she would be forced to pay for his schemes. That he could not and would not bear. 

From his manner, Loki knew that Odin would kill him should the mason succeed, for Odin would not break his word, nor would Frigga refuse to honor the terms they had set. Rising before his royal parents and all the court, Loki declared he would devise a way to void the agreement, whatever the cost to himself. 

‘Whatever the cost to himself…’ Yes, he had said that, and he had meant it, but it hadn’t been until nightfall until his plan was ready, his transformation complete. While he was a gifted sorcerer, he was by his birth a shape shifter, and he decided that no mere illusion would serve him in this endeavor. With careful attention he formed himself into a mare, letting every cell of his body shift and re-work themselves into what he demanded. Not a mere image, he became the creature he wished, to the very scent and sound of a mare. Even his thoughts grew dim and distant, the senses of the horse given dominance over his true mind. It was the most complete transformation he had ever done. 

Loki released his mare-form on the mason’s stallion with utter abandon, knowing the instinct would be impossible for the horse to resist. When the possessed beast had torn the bridle from the mason’s hands, Loki had galloped away like the wind, drawing them both away from their task. All night he had run like the wind, chased through the trees of the nearby forest, lost in the urgency of needed success of this diversion. The builder fell behind, unable to keep up with them, but Loki made sure the steed continued the chase. No other thought came to him, until it was only the chase, even as the sun began to rise, the sky lightening over the incomplete wall, the gap of the gateposts unfinished. With a triumphant neigh, Loki raced for the trees, hooves pounding, and still pursued…So meticulous and time-consuming a shift was not so quickly reversed, and he simply hadn’t the time before the stallion had won his pursuit…

Loki shivered in Sigyn’s arms at the memory, even as distant as it now was. How long had he stayed in that form, fearing he would be forever condemned to it? The spark of life invading him stole away his ability to return to his true form, for the shock of it threatened to tear him apart, so he waited, terrified and weary, even as time raced as he had raced, until the pain had come and he could not think, could not wait any longer…

Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up at Sigyn. His childhood friend, who had long stood by him and followed him through silly romps and listened to his rants and tales, Sigyn had lost the shy, hesitant nature she had when they had first met. Now she was a quiet, self-assured young lady, mirroring Queen Frigga in her quiet way and calming air. What would she make of what had happened? He couldn’t contemplate it, not at that moment. He wanted to simply sleep, held close to her heart and lullaby. 

For hours, she remained right where she was, ignoring the growing ache in her back from sitting up with both her own weight and half of Loki’s to bear. All the while, she kept touching him, stroking his arm, his back, his hair… always searching for any hint of pain or injury. The foal’s birth seemed to have left him physically exhausted and magically depleted… but there was no sign of remaining trauma on or inside of his body. It was more the emotional implications that worried her. She knew Loki well, almost as well as the Queen did. She knew he had been ecstatic to be called into council. But, if this was to be the aftermath of his first involvement, what did that mean for future endeavors? How much more would it take for Odin to give Loki what it was he wanted? And that was perhaps the only mystery to her. What was it that her dear friend wanted from the All-Father? Loki already had the favour of his Mother… what did he need Odin’s for as well? He had little interest in being King. And his mischievous nature was not one that would do well under the crown, by his own admission. Both he and Thor spoke of the Kingship as if it were a foregone conclusion for it to fall to Thor.

Only when Loki stirred, groaning softly, did she speak. “All is well, Loki. You are safe.” she said, assuming that waking up in the stables might be a bit disorienting.

Loki’s eyes fluttered up, having not even been aware of falling into deep slumber. His exhaustion was still evident, but his eyes were clear and focused. With a small grunt, he moved off of her, sitting forward and pulling the blankets close around his shoulders. “Sigyn,” he said, if only to acknowledge her presence. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He knew that she wouldn’t say anything of what had happened in the stable to anyone, unless it was to report to Odin or Frigga. He drew up his knees, and shook the hand not holding the blanket around him, flexing his long fingers absently. 

"How do you feel, Lucky?" she asked him with a fond smile, calling him by the nickname she had long ago bequeathed to him, based upon his incorrigible habit of coming out of even the most dire of circumstances at least somewhat on top. "You have lived up to your name once again… you are quite lucky to have survived this." she said, concern thick in her voice as she leaned closer to him, hands on his shoulders. "You mad prince! I know you seek Odin’s favor, but could I beg you not to die over it?"

“I feel like myself again, at least,” he replied with a grin. “And I didn’t die, that’s what’s important. But I’ll not make too light of it; I know it was dangerous. I just didn’t know how dangerous until it was too late.” The grin faded off his face, replaced with his normal sharp expression. “It did work, though, didn’t it? The contract was forfeit. The sun and the moon still shine. And the queen is safe.” He hunched his shoulders slightly. “What happened after I…ran off? And…the foal--is it…all right?”

"The builder returned when he could not retrieve his stallion… and he was so exhausted from the chase that the illusion he wore fell away. Turned out, he was a Jotun in disguise. Thor struck him down and killed him." She explained as best she could with what little information she had. As she spoke, she reached up and pulled down a thick, warm robe that Frigga had brought down from Loki’s rooms once she’d been assured her son was in good hands. Gently, Sigyn wrapped Loki up in it, so he wouldn’t have to continue huddling under a horse blanket.

"The foal is fine and healthy. One of the nursing mares has taken him in and doesn’t seem to mind that he has twice the normal amount of legs. Poor little thing is quite anxious to see you though, I think. He keeps trying to peek over the side of the stall." she told him.

Loki glanced up at the wall as he wrapped the robe around him. “I’d like to get a look at him, too,” he said. With Sigyn’s help, he waded across the straw to the dividing wall, peering into next paddock. The fuzzy grey colt scampered over to them, now quite steady on its blur of legs. With a happy toss of his head, he rubbed up against the boards. A rare gentle smile played across Loki’s face as his long fingers stroked the colt’s silky mane and scratched between the bright eyes. “Well, you are lovely,” he murmured to it. “And you took all my strength with you, didn’t you, you slippery little creature? I had to swim a river to drive off your sire!” Loki gave a sideways glance toward Sigyn, still unsure how she would take any part of this. “I had to do this, you know,” he said softly, still petting the foal, “Not just for Odin’s approval, although he and the council wouldn’t have hesitated a moment to kill me where I stood if I hadn’t. I did it for Mother. And I did it for me. Because I could, and I had to.” 

"I know you had to. I just wish there had been a less dangerous road for you to run. I know not what I or your mother would do without you." she nodded, joining him in stroking the happy foal’s nose. "But you are safe and well, your full strength will return to you in time. And now you have a very handsome little foal to your credit, although I think it might be best to keep his origins on a strict need-to-know basis. Let’s not give The Warriors Three any ammunition against you for teasing purposes," she suggested with a smile, making light of the situation so that Loki would not dwell on it. "You were very brave and clever, Loki. You always are," she commented softly, turning to him and smoothing the robe over his chest, nimble fingers tying it closed firmly. "If you are feeling strong enough now, perhaps we should get you back up to your rooms for a proper bath and rest?" If anyone saw the two of them leaving the stables like this, it would simply be assumed that they had literally taken a roll in the hay. Her reputation might suffer a little, but she found she did not care. At least if rumor began that she was spreading her legs, it would be that it was for Loki.

“Perhaps,” Loki answered absently, but he didn’t move away from his petting the foal or Sigyn’s attention. He felt a surge of childish pride at her praise as he always did, but he didn’t want to leave the tranquility of the stable, as much as he needed to do so. He did need to eat and drink, and certainly bathe, but it was this quiet moment that felt the more healing. It dawned on him, too, that others might not understand the depths of his sacrifice. He knew how ambivalent others felt about him, even his brother, Thor. He was a magician, a shape-shifter, and more a strategist than warrior: his brother was more popular, and even though he had kept his promise and defeated the Jotun mason, he was in agreement with Sigyn: his method of doing so would not be as lauded as his brother’s direct confrontation. Despite Sigyn’s suggestion, Loki also doubted that the story would remain secret for long. Well, perhaps Odin could be convinced that it was the only proper way to have defeated their foe. He sighed as the colt attempted to suckle his fingers, and he drew back. “You’re right, as usual, Sigyn; I should get to my rooms,” he said with a self-mocking smirk. “I must be somewhat recovered, though, if I can fool you into believing that I’m strong enough to stand on my own.” 

"I’m not fooled." she shook her head, hand seeking his. "Come. Let us get you to your room where you can rest properly and I can tell My Lady that you can be tended by the head healer if needed." she said. In truth, she wished to see to Loki herself. She was very protective of him and this was one of the very few ways she knew how to show her affections to him in a proper manner.

With a little of her help, they made their way out of the stables and into the palace, carefully avoiding the notice of the guards. Only when Sigyn had Loki back in his own room and on his own bed did she send a maidservant to the Queen’s quarters to let her know that they were back inside.

Loki lay back on the bed with a deep sigh, letting his exhaustion show without reservation. “Sigyn…” he said,”…thank you.” There was more that he wished to say, but the arrival of the healers and Frigga prevented him from doing so. As the others began their ministrations, Loki only watched her leave. He realized she had been assisting him for hours, and was doubtlessly tired, but he couldn’t help but miss her presence. 

His recovery didn’t take long, but it was several days before he saw her again. He had regained both his physical and magical strength, and was restless enough to pace around his room and constantly fiddle with objects scattered about it. Abruptly he decided to leave, not set on a single destination at first: he considered the garden, although it was late summer and the garden was hotter than he preferred; there was the library, or even just the palace walkways. He wanted to leave the palace grounds, though. There was none as clever as he was at slipping away from the palace, and he was soon away and off toward the great shoreline that ringed the vast city. 

He watched the ships skim the waters and the air-skiffs dart overhead like dragonflies. The rocky shoreline was dotted with sandy inlets, and he walked along one of them with long, steady strides. Other than a fishing boat a short way off-shore the area was deserted, which suited Loki well. The rush of the waves and the distant roar of the falls, the play of the breeze on his skin was a pleasant change. 

Deep in his contemplation, he didn’t notice the grey blur until it was streaking along the sands far before him. Within moments, the colt was prancing in front of him, tossing his mane. “Hello!” Loki called out, reaching out for his bridle. “What are you doing here?” With a happy whinny, the colt flew off again, running in a wide circle, legs like fluttering oars through the sand. With a laugh, Loki tore off after him, more in play than in any attempt to catch him. 

Sigyn was leaning against one of the many large rocks jutting through the sand, and the little horse made his way to her. Loki caught sight of her and slowed his pace, walking to her as she grabbed the bridle and offered the colt an apple. 

“He does like to run, doesn’t he?” Loki remarked. “Didn’t think the shore would be the place for it, though.” 

"It is where he wished to go. I think he just likes how the sand flings off of his hooves in all directions." She smiled, ruffling the colt’s mane affectionately as he made short work of the apple. "I am not so much taking him for a walk as I am just letting him lead me where he wants to go. He’s very spirited… much like his mother," she teased Loki very gently. "He is already faster than any other steed in Asgard. By the time he is grown, he may well be the fastest steed in the Nine Realms," she said as the colt took off again, all eight legs now quite sure of themselves.

"How are you holding up?" she asked Loki, trying to smooth one of her copper-colored curls behind her ear, although the wind off the water quickly flung it back into her face. "My Lady said your recovery was near complete. From a physical and magickal perspective, that is."

Loki leaned on the rock beside her, brushing the errant curl back from her face. With anyone else he might have given a flippant answer, but he respected Sigyn and her friendship too greatly to do that. “I should pretend that all is well and I’m as strong as ever, shouldn’t I?” he said with some bitterness. “Oh, I’m recovered well enough. It’s only that it seems to have changed nothing. It was Thor who slew the Jotun imposter and Thor who is the hero. My part is mere embarrassment.” Loki looked out at the cavorting little creature on the sand. “I’m not ashamed of what I did, Sigyn, and I’ll not be ashamed of what came of it.” 

"Nor should you be. Without your intervention, we never would have found out the mason’s identity in the first place. So you were as instrumental in this as much, if not more, than Thor." she pointed out. "I know it and, more importantly, your mother knows it. It was already unthinkable when we thought he was an Asgardian… imagine if she had been compelled to honour the bargain and been at the mercy of a Jotun. That would have been disastrous for all involved; the Queen most of all."

She took his hand, blushing a little as she did so. She was naturally a very tactile person, but very often had to keep her instincts in check. As such, she rarely instigated contact that was not healing in nature. “You told me once that I needed to stop trying to be like Amora… and just be myself. Embrace my own strengths. Perhaps… you should take your own advice and… stop trying to impress people who are blind to your extraordinary gifts.”

“You think I seek only my own glory?” Loki replied, his expression dark. “This is not about who is the more heroic, Sigyn. It is about the good of Asgard, of all the Nine Realms. The All-Father will choose an heir, and he must choose well. Do you think Thor the best for it? He is reckless, stubborn and impulsive. He does not take advice or council willingly. I do not say I want the throne, Sigyn; I do not, but that I cannot even be seen as an equal to my brother is inexplicable. What must I do, Sigyn, to prove myself worthy?” He drew a deep breath, pausing in his rant. “And after this?” he waved at the colt, which had taken up chasing a low-flying bird. “Perhaps I won’t ever have that. I am a prince of Asgard, just as my brother is! From where comes this preference Odin has for Thor? It is not something so easily dismissed from me. I do embrace my own strengths, Sigyn, but no other does, save yourself, perhaps, and Mother.” 

She took a deep breath, not surprised by his instinctive anger, but not wanting to turn it on herself either. “There is plenty of time yet before the All-Father must choose one of you. And you know that he and Thor butt heads just as much as anything else. He knows exactly how stubborn and unyielding your brother is.” She did not bring up that Loki was not yet suited to the throne either. He was still too interested in being clever and showing off than in being the quiet diplomat. “You *are* worthy, Loki, whether Odin chooses you as his heir or not. Only one of you can be king, which is perhaps the real problem. If he could name you both as King, then I have no doubt he would.”

Loki fell silent, knowing Sigyn was correct. Still, it galled him to be so ignored, to have his brother given the credit. Even more so, that every member of court seemed to disdain him; it was for that reason alone that he felt no hesitation in mocking them. Not a one of them was without their own flaws, many greater than his by far. He had told Sigyn he was not ashamed of what he had done to repair his scheme gone a-wry, nor was he ashamed of the marvelous little horse that had resulted, but he could barely even admit to how deeply affected he had been by what was done to him. No, that was something he didn’t want to even think on. 

He gave a sharp whistle, calling the colt back to him. The foal splashed through the braking wave, sea foam coating his hooves. “So, my slippery little one,” he said, taking a firm hold on the bridle. “Best if we all get back, before we are missed and they raise the alarms, eh?”

Sigyn nodded, allowing him to change the subject without commenting. When the colt returned, she ruffled his mane gently, earning an insistent push from a velvety nose. “Have you decided on a name for your progeny yet?” she asked. She had resisted calling the foal any of the names to came to mind. It was not her place to name him, after all. “He’s a very affectionate little thing… and very bright and clever, not unlike you.” she ventured.

Loki gave her a sly grin. “Are you saying that I’m an affectionate little thing, Sigyn?” He laughed. “I’m calling him Sleipnir,” he said. It meant slipper, or slippery, and one look at the colt’s wet, silky hide and dancing hooves explained the choice. 

She smiled, stroking the colt’s sleek neck. “Fitting. Sleipnir. I like it. And, to answer your question, yes, you are an affectionate thing when you wish to be.” she smiled, trying to fall in step with him, although his strides were much longer than hers would ever be. “You forget, we’ve been friends since we were little… I remember how often we found ourselves snuggled together under furs with books or listening to your mother tell us stories.”

Loki nodded. “Some of the most pleasant times, those! Mother with her spinning and you so attentive. It really wasn’t so long ago, was it?” He fell quiet as they walked along. Things were changing, he knew, things that would have lots of repercussions for all the Nine Realms. There was rumor that warfare on Asgard was reaching a new stage of development. It would not be long before another Convergence, when all the realms would align. Many things could occur, and Loki was certain than the quiet moments of his childhood would not continue into the future. He glanced at Sigyn. Her curls had fallen loose again, and she absently kept pushing them back from her face. She had grown up far quicker than he would have thought, from the timid little rustic girl from Vanaheim to a quiet, self-assured royal handmaiden and healer. He realized suddenly that he craved the calm acceptance she had of him, the simple unique friendship she offered…and perhaps more. He quelled the thought as soon as it occurred. Other than his brother, there was no-one to whom he was closer, and he would not exploit that with perhaps unwanted attention. His unwanted attention, he thought miserably: what woman would want the attentions of a shape shifter who quarreled with everyone around him? Sigyn deserved better, someone who would cherish her talents and could give her a peaceful life. He set his expression in a well-practiced mask of neutrality, leading Sleipnir along. 

Together, they headed into the stables and Sigyn led little Sleipnir into the paddock with his foster mother, the foal losing no time in beginning to nurse. She then turned back to Loki, frowning when she saw his deceptively bland expression. “What is it?” she asked him, latching the gate behind her “Loki, what have you got cooking in that clever head of yours? I know that look. You are hiding something.” she said, though her tone pronounced it a statement rather than a question. She was inviting his confidence rather than demanding an answer from him, something most people never knew how to differentiate between.

Loki gave her a long look for a brief moment, before the sly smile slid onto his face. “I’m always hiding something, Sigyn; don’t you know me by now?” he said teasingly. Her silent response was so much like his mother’s that he dropped the mocking humor. “I know the stories are already circulating,” he said. He held up a hand to her beginning protests. “No, maybe not in your earshot, but I know they are. I am called before Odin and the court tomorrow, and I have plans to remind them of the truth. I cannot tell you how….grateful I am for your support, but there are very few who feel as you do. Most of all I will impress on the All-father that I am as loyal a son as Thor, and as worthy.” 

The next day found Sigyn standing by the Queen’s side, along with Amora and Lorelei, formal and looking very grown-up in a mossy green gown. Vanities aside, however, she watched as the court assembled with butterflies in her stomach, wondering what in the Nine realms Loki had planned. Across from her, also standing on the stairs up to Odin’s throne, stood Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, all grinning broadly as Thor joined them, resplendent as always in his red cape and silver armour. Amora and Lorelei both had their gazes fixed on the elder son of Asgard, as did near every eligible young maiden (and many more who were neither). Only Sigyn cast her sight further afield, down the aisle to where she could just barely see Loki’s lithe shadow approaching.

Loki was in full court attire, a handsome and regal figure, and he strode forward with a sure and confident step. When Loki wished, he could command an entire hall’s attention, and he very much wished to do so on this occasion. Odin rose from the throne, always a stern figure, but with hand extended in welcome. Thor at least seemed to be genuinely pleased to see his brother: he was beaming and ignoring the flirting glances of the court ladies. Frigga was her calm, passive self, as expected, in contrast to Sigyn’s nerves: she only wished she could master her demeanor as well as her queen. It was when a collective gasp whispered through the great hall that Sigyn returned her focus to Loki, now nearly at the foot of the dais…and leading a capering, cheerful Sleipnir beside him. 

“Welcome, Loki Odinson, on your return to Asgard,” Odin said, his voice filling the chamber as always. He revealed no surprise or curiosity about the colt, its many hooves clattering over the marble floor. “We have been told that you are recovered from your trial in Valhalla.”

“Fully recovered, thank you, your majesty,” Loki replied, with a small bow and tight-lipped smile. “I am most pleased to have succeeded in fulfilling my promise to the King and Queen of Asgard, and to have upheld their binding and honorable oaths, as I swore to do, whatever the cost to my person,” he continued. “And may I give my thanks to Thor, my brother, for his most valiant participation.” Loki turned and gave another small bow to Thor, who bowed back with a somewhat puzzled look. “And so now the halls of Valhalla are fortified and those within may partake of their rewards unhindered…that is, I assume, that the gates were finished, after the contract was forfeit.” 

“They were,” Odin answered, his hand lowered. 

“It is so very gratifying to know that the paths between the realms may be safely and peacefully traveled,” Loki went on. “It is for that reason that I have brought a gift for the All-father, one that might serve him in a most unique way.” He let out the lead a bit, letting Sleipnir trot in front of him. “This is Sleipnir, the best horse among all the realms, from Asgard to Midgard. In time he will grow to be a steed that none can match, and will bear the All-father wherever he wishes with such speed as to sail like a ship on calm waters and as swiftly as clouds on high. I know this, for I made him.” Sleipnir tossed his silky grey head and butted against Loki’s hand. Loki didn’t take his eyes from Odin, but his fingers found the foal’s mane and petted him. 

Sigyn’s eyes were as wide as saucers, for although the words were polite and courtly and even praising, Loki’s tone was anything but. He was mocking Odin in so subtle a manner than the Allfather would not be able to call him on it, lest he risk appearing ungrateful for Loki’s aid and gift. With slightly shaking fingers, she touched Frigga’s hand, seeking solace as much as offering it to the Queen.

And Sigyn was not the only one who was so surprised, murmurs had started from the moment Loki began to speak; murmurs that had given rise to all out cacophony when Loki smoothly pronounced himself as Sleipnir’s maker. All knew he had shape shifted into a mare in the course of his task… the idea that a son of Odin had not only done that but also borne offspring from the encounter was bordering on deviant and shameful.

Odin fixed his gaze on Loki, his expression unreadable. “Your prowess at magic had gained new heights,” he said, slowly descending the dais. “We accept your gift, Loki Odinson, and the generous spirit with which it was given.” He reached out to Sleipnir, also petting him. The colt seemed to enjoy all the attention. Odin continued, “And we will celebrate your victory and the completion of the fortification of Valhalla with a feast, in your honor. You have served us well.” Odin glanced up, then away. “Both of you, my sons, princes of Asgard.” He handed off the bridle to one of the guards who lead Sleipnir away, with some difficulty. Loki’s expression stayed steady, and even pleased, but Sigyn didn’t have to be close to detect the anger in Loki’s eyes. Odin may have saved Loki from some of the gossip by contributing Sleipnir’s creation to magic rather than shape shifting, but Loki would only see the inclusion of Thor as another slight to his honor. For the first time in their long friendship, Sigyn was afraid for him, truly afraid...

***

From then on, Loki grew increasingly withdrawn and secretive, spending long hours by himself, hidden away in his own study. Sigyn tried once or twice to talk to him, only to be met with cold indifference despite the warmth their friendship had previously had. Discouraged, she gave him the space he apparently craved and devoted herself to the Queen, her skills in healing and spinning growing more and more. Although Frigga could see the new distance between Loki and Sigyn, she did not comment on it directly, trusting the two to work it out for themselves. 

The truth was the queen was growing concerned about her family. Odin had gone many years without his Sleep, and it would soon be needed, before the approaching Convergence. All of Asgard had begun to work toward the celebrations that would be enjoyed across the realms, and to prepare to be the center of the event. All the realms were turning their eyes toward Asgard, and they could not be found to be lacking. She urged Odin to consider appointing the princes as stewards in his absence, for she did not want to rule in his stead while he slept. 

Odin fought her on her counsel, arguing that there was yet time before he need fall into Odinsleep, that Loki and Thor were not yet ready, too young and bold for the burdens of the throne. Frigga could not fully disagree: Loki was more reclusive than ever, and Thor a strong and charming warrior but still too brash and impulsive. Trouble followed the brothers whenever they were together, and Frigga knew that it was vital they learn to work together rather than constantly clash. Thor’s easy manner and vanity worried her greatly, although his charm did much to temper it in the eyes of their subjects. Still she could not quiet her troubled thoughts, her spinning wheel a blur beneath her anxious hands. 

It was not with complete happiness, therefore, that she welcomed Odin’s long-looked for decision to publicly name Thor as the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. She was relieved, certainly, but wondered if it would bring a greater rift between the brothers. Perhaps not, she considered. She knew her sons well, and knew Loki better than most. He may be jealous, but he was content enough to allow his brother to parade about and wave the banners…so long as he held his brother’s consideration as advisor. Loki knew where the power truly lay. Well, she would see to them both, that all should be well between them and for the kingdom. 

News of the forthcoming coronation spread fast and Sigyn shared the Queen’s misgivings about the choice, although she kept her own counsel on it. General consensus was that it was a fantastic development. She wondered how fantastic it would be when Thor’s somewhat belligerent nature when challenged plunged Asgard into some kind of trouble. 

But never had she expected the coronation to come to a screeching halt as it had. Word spread like wildfire that Frost Giants had broken into the vault, killed two guards, and nearly made off with Casket of Ancient Winters. She shivered just thinking about the possibility of Jotunheim once more having their weapon back in their hands.

More disturbingly, there was already news that Thor and Odin were at odds. Thor wanted to attack the Jotuns outright and shut them down forever as punishment. Odin seemed content to see it as an isolated, unofficial attempt and leave it at that.

She sat at her spinning wheel next to the Queen’s only barely focused on her task while her mind fretted over how Loki must be feeling and whether or not she should try to talk to him again. When he wasn’t holed up in his magickal studies, he was off with Thor and Sif and the Warriors Three, sharing in their adventures in a pointed bid to be like his brother, so she imagined. For all she knew, he might agree with Thor.

"My lady, might I have your leave to speak freely?" she asked, having to talk to someone about it and lacking any other person she trusted. When Frigga nodded, Sigyn took a deep breath. "I… I am worried about Loki. Have you… have you spoken to him about… what happened?" she asked hesitantly. It was not her place to meddle with the royal family, in her opinion, but Frigga had told her time and again that she was all but family herself; a somewhat cryptic insistence.

“About the king’s selection or this disruption?” The queen replied with a sigh. “I have hardly had time to speak to any of them? I had some words with Thor and Loki, moments before they were presented, small words of encouragement, nothing more. I feared something would happen; I felt it…” Frigga picked at the wool, not yet steady enough to set the wheel spinning the thread again. “The consequences of this are far-reaching, and even I cannot see it clearly yet.” She looked over to Sigyn. “Asgard is secure, that we know. The Jotuns failed. What concerns you about Loki?” 

"What does not concern me about Loki? That may yet be a shorter list." Sigyn sighed. "He’s just been so… cold. I’ve barely spoken to him at all in the last few years and when I do it’s a very clipped conversation. I do not know what happened to make him forget how… how close we were. I miss my friend." she admitted, tears pricking at her eyes, though she succeeded in holding them back. "I do not think he likes me anymore. Oh dear! I know how childish that sounds, I truly do! But…I worry for him. And I do not know how to help him or if he even wants my help."

Frigga looked over to her distraught lady-in-waiting. “Loki’s mind has long been a mystery, even more than most men,” she said with a small smile. “But there is hope for him. He is capable of greatness, if he tempers himself. His talents may not be as lauded as Thor’s, but he will prove his worth in time.” Frigga said it as assurance to Sigyn, but it was more her hope than any foresight on her part. All she felt was dread, a pall that clouded her sight of what was to come. 

“Your Highness!” The strained cry from a palace guard interrupted them from outside her chambers. “I have an urgent message! Please!” 

Sigyn stood. “I shall take care of it, my lady. You have had a trying day as it is.” she said, setting her thread aside and heading over to the door, opening it to see one of the palace guards. "My lady is indisposed at the moment. What do you want?" she asked the guard, polite and kind, yet in no way prepared to let this man barge into the Queen’s quarters. So often these "urgent messages" were not too urgent at all.

“I am sent to deliver a message,” the guard answered, “to the King or Queen alone.” Without ceremony, he pushed forward through the door. “Forgive this intrusion, Queen Frigga, but I am delayed in delivering this message to the King and sought Your Highness out in his stead. Prince Loki has sent warning that Thor has led an attack to Jotunheim, and that, he, Loki, requests assistance to prevent further conflict. Please, I beg of your Highness, this must be brought to the King!”

Frigga gave Sigyn a dismayed look, but spoke firmly to the guard. “And it will be, immediately. Go now, ready Odin’s steed; we have need of his speed in this.” She stood before the fire, concentrating until the image of Odin appeared before her. “My husband, my king,” she said, “Thor is away to Jotunheim with his warriors. I have only just received word of this, and I urge you to retrieve him without delay, before much of our peace is undone.” Her face was a mask of fear.

Odin nodded, his image a blur as he began to move. “To Jotunheim…and Loki with him? Foolish boy!” he spat. “Worry not, wife, we will fetch them back from there. And I will have words to say to Heimdall!” 

Frigga sank back on the couch as her projection faded away. “Let him arrive not too late,” she whispered. 

"Jotunheim? By themselves?" Sigyn shook her head. "Stars above, what is Thor thinking? They will not find answers this way!" she fretted before taking a deep breath and trying to steady herself. The last thing the Queen needed to see was her handmaiden coming apart at the seams. She quickly made a cup of tea, taking it to the Queen with a little curtsey. "All will be well, my lady. The Allfather will fetch them and repair the damage done, if any." she said hopefully. "I cannot imagine the six of them being able to do much damage in so short a time. And if Laufey did not condone the attack, perhaps he will be grateful to know of treachery in his own lands."

Instead of looking reassured, Frigga appeared more agitated. “Pray that they encounter no-one, most of all Laufey!” she exclaimed, and then fell silent. “No more spinning for now, Sigyn. I need to meditate on this, and await their return. Have word send to us as soon as they return over the Bifrost...Go to the healers and have them prepare, in case…and then, come back to me, if you wish. I would welcome your company through this.”

"Yes, my lady." she said before standing and heading right out, walking quickly to the healing rooms to alert them that there may be injuries from extreme cold coming in soon, to give them time to prepare warm baths and such. Even without the threat of violence, a trip to Jotunheim could well involve mishaps simply from the brutal weather there. Frostbite could occur on bare skin within moments, hypothermia in a quarter of an hour. Then she headed out to speak to the front guards, only to see Hogun and Volstagg carrying a bleeding Fandrall between them, with Sif hot on their heels.

"My stars, what happened?" she rushed along with them. "Where are Loki and Thor? Did Odin reach you in time?"

“He did, fortunately for us all,” Lady Sif replied. “Thor and Loki remain with the Allfather in the Bifrost chamber…Hogun, be sure that Volstagg’s arm is looked to, also,” she called as the healers took them in to the wards. The warrioress was cold and had been in battle, but appeared unhurt. Sigyn sent a guard to Frigga with this news, then dove into helping with the injuries. 

Even Fandrall’s injuries were soon tended to, and Sigyn didn’t pause in returning to her queen’s side. Hurrying through the halls, she saw the distant figure of Loki, looking as though he was wandering toward his rooms. “Loki!” she called out, both out of relief to see him whole and unharmed and to greet him. 

Loki stopped in his tracks, spinning around like a trapped animal. His expression brought her up short: there was something terrifying in his eyes, a painful hurt and confusion lurking there, such as she had never seen on his face before. “Loki, it’s me, Sigyn,” she said gently, coming closer and reaching for him. 

“Don’t touch me!” Loki yelled, pulling away. “Leave me alone!” He turned abruptly and bolted away, the slam of his doors echoing down the hall. 

Sigyn stood in the hallway, speechless, her mouth hanging open in shock. He had never spoken to her like that before… what could she have possibly done? Swallowing hard, she turned and headed for the Queen’s chambers.

Before she’d even opened the door, she could hear the Queen muttering viciously under her breath, sending the maidservants scattering. She bit her lip, waiting for Frigga to take a breath before clearing her throat. “My lady, what… has something happened? I know they returned and I helped Fandrall and Volstagg in the healing rooms. I just saw Loki and he seemed… very upset.”

“And rightfully so!” Frigga snapped, still angry, although it was not directed at anyone there. “The warriors…they are safe? Were they badly injured?” She hardly paused to wait for Sigyn’s confirmation that they were indeed safe and mending well before going on. “Fools and father of fools!” she went on. “We have had a treaty with the Jotuns for nearly a thousand years! It was forbidden to travel to Jotunheim for many reasons, no matter this small breach! What was Thor thinking?! And to bring his brother there..!” Frigga clasped her arms around herself as if to contain her agitation. “This could not be worst-timed. It has drained the Allfather of his remaining strength, and he makes poor decisions, without council! And how shall he rest, with Thor banished by his authority to Midgard, stripped of power and mortal!” 

"Banished?" Sigyn repeated, blinking in confusion. "Though he broke the law, it was an understandable breach, given what happened. Why would he go so far as to banish him?" She quickly busied herself with making two cups of tea, one for herself and one for Frigga. “What can we do? Surely we can convince Odin to rethink his action? Or if not… then I suppose Loki will have to take the throne temporarily.” she said, that being the next logical choice. Loki was no more fit to rule than Thor, but neither was he less fit.

“We shall see how long Odin can stave off his need to sleep, although I fear it is already too long,” Frigga replied softly. “And no matter his temper, he does nothing without reason. Thor has been exiled and he will remain so, until he is worthy of returning to us. But this is a most difficult time for us. I should go to Loki; he cannot indulge in seclusion at a time such as this.”

"As you wish, my lady. I will await you here and make certain everything is ready for your evening." Sigyn said with a small bow. She only hoped Loki would open up to his mother and find some solace with her. Thor was important to everyone, but most of all to his little brother. She could only imagine what Loki was feeling.

Frigga headed down to Loki’s room, dismissing the guards from the hallway. They did not need to be interrupted. Knocking on his door, she announced her presence. “Loki, darling… it’s me. May I come in?”

“I’d rather be alone,” Loki said, even as he opened the door. “But have I ever been able to deny you?” He turned and walked back into his room. The room was full of books and the detritus of his magic dotting his furniture. The soft burble of water rose from a fountain on the far wall, and the vivid evening light shone through the window, washing the room in deep gold and shadow. Loki meandered about, the fingers of his left hand twitching in an odd rhythm. 

She smiled at him a bit sadly as she came in, politely closing the door behind her to give them both privacy. “You may wish to be alone… but I am not convinced that is what you need right now.” She sighed, drawing closer to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve already had it out with your Father… but he remains unyielding. Thor, for the time being, is on his own. With any luck, perhaps he will learn a little humility. But what of you, my son?” she asked, gentle fingers smoothing his hair back from his temple. “Are you all right? Were you injured on Jotunheim?”

“What of me, Mother? Do I need to learn a little humility, too?” Loki said, moving away. He paced around the room like a starved, caged beast. “If Odin would cast out his beloved heir, then what is to be my punishment? What excuse will he use?” He turned to her with anguished eyes. “He would not even let us explain…I couldn’t even speak for him…” Loki let his protest trail off. “I should have stopped Thor from going there, from any of us going there!”

"Why would you be punished, Loki?" she asked him, allowing him to pace while she remained standing still. "You have done nothing wrong and I am certain you did try to dissuade your brother. I know exactly how stubborn Thor is. Nothing short of Odin himself might have stopped him." She shook her head.

She reached out, touching his arm gently to coax him to stop pacing for a moment. “You did not answer my question, my son. Are you hurt?”

He looked down at Frigga’s hand resting on his forearm. “Am I?” he asked distantly. “Am I hurt?” He looked up at her, his eyes like cold emeralds. “What am I, Mother?” he asked hoarsely. “I don’t know what I am.”

She frowned at him. “You are my son, Loki. I’m afraid anything beyond that answer is not for me to decide for you. You are yourself and you are my son.” Still, a warning bell had gone off in her head. Loki had been in Jotunheim this night and now he was asking apparently philosophical questions in anger. What had happened?

“Your son.” Loki said, squeezing his eyes shut. “One of them, anyway. But I am a shape shifter, too. A magic user. An Asgardian. Even more, a prince of Asgard.” Again he fastened those shining hard eyes on her. “I am all those things, am I not?”

She met his gaze evenly. “You are. Of course,” she nodded. And he was all of those things, regardless of how he had come to be as such. She put her hands on his shoulders again. “Oh, Loki, why such worry?” she asked, concerned for this anxiety and anger that suddenly had so strong a hold on him. Loki had always been the more sensitive of her sons, more inclined to find insults and barbs even where none were meant.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Loki burst out. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?” He tore away from her in a sudden rage. “What is it you’re not telling me?!” He threw the door open wide, running away from Frigga, swift as a blazing star. Within moments he was gone. 

Sigyn was just setting out the porcelain teacups when Frigga returned, looking quite shaken and even more worried than before, if such a thing were possible. “My lady? What happened? Is Loki all right? Are you all right?” she asked, vague alarm turning into outright alarm at the sight of Frigga’s pale face.

Frigga moved toward the fire, looking into the crackling flames. The sky had grown darker, the night sky glittering with the many stars and ribbons of color that draped across it. “I cannot tell,” she said after a long moment. She drew herself up with a steadying breath. “I fear that this expedition has uncovered too much. What will come of it cannot be yet seen.” Frigga frowned, shaking her head slowly. “I would have Thor here now, of all times. It would be best for them both.” She turned to Sigyn and put out her hands. “Oh, my dear Sigyn, come here! There is purpose for everything, child, and this may prove to be the better path. In truth it was what I had wanted long ago.” She did not elaborate, only drew Sigyn into a reassuring embrace. “Nonetheless, I should like to know what occurred on Jotunheim. You said the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif are not so seriously injured? Perhaps they will give me some report, if they are not with Odin.” 

Sigyn leaned against the Queen, hugging her back warmly. She’d always been an affectionate girl once permission was granted. She had no idea what the Queen was talking about, but she did not ask, sensing it was something that was not her business just yet, if it ever would be.

"Lady Sif and Hogun were not injured at all, so far as I could tell. Bruises if anything. Volstagg had severe frostbite on his right arm, from being grabbed by one of the giant, he said. Fandrall was the worst off, he was stabbed through the chest by ice. He’s lucky he did not bleed out right there in Jotunheim." she said.

“Despite his gentle manner with ladies, Fandrall is a strong and hardy warrior,” Frigga said with a smile. “And the cold may have helped him. I would hear the report from any of them.”

It was the Lady Sif that could supply much of what had transpired on Jotunheim, but each were sought and brought report to her. Frigga offered no comment, listening intently and thanking each of them in turn for their recollection. It was late into the night when she wished the Lady Sif well and good night, for the warrioress was the most dismayed and concerned over Thor’s banishment and spoke long to the queen. 

Frigga was calling Sigyn over from the corner where she had retired to sew during these interviews, when guards arrived with word for the queen to come immediately to the King’s chambers. Nodding, she rose with a renewed alertness, taking Sigyn with her. 

Sigyn set the needlework aside immediately and hurried after her, soft shoes barely making a sound, skirts swishing about in her rush. When they reached the hallway to Odin’s chambers, they stopped short, seeing a few guards carrying the Allfather between them and Loki hurrying after in tears. Both women gasped and hurried in.

Frigga took charge immediately. “Quickly, lay him on the bed.” she said, wave of her hand and a silent spell making Odin’s regal robes disappear, leaving him in soft bedclothes. Sigyn went to Loki, abandoning her usual propriety, putting her hands on his shoulders and trying to get him to look at her. “Loki. Loki, are you all right? What happened?” she asked.

"He’s not injured." Frigga finally pronounced with a sigh of relief. "He’s asleep. The Odinsleep has claimed him… although I’ve never seen it claim him so suddenly before."

Loki’s eyes slid down over the unshed tears in relief, the shoulders under Sigyn’s hands relaxing. “Sigyn,” he said in a whisper, his voice small and tired and devoid of the furious panic he had displayed before. There was a flash of green as he blinked, looking down at her. “I..I don’t know, I-we—“ he stammered, before gathering himself. “It’s only the Odinsleep, Sigyn. You heard the Queen; it will be all right.” Looking back at Frigga and the still form of Odin on the bed, Loki led Sigyn near the doors. He spoke to her quietly. “Mother will not leave his side, I think,” he said. “I’ll stay with them for a while. I need to…speak to her.” 

"Yes. Yes, of course." she nodded, turning to face him once they reached the door. "I will wait right here. If you or the Queen needs me, I am right here. I promise." she said, reaching up to stroke his cheek in a gentle caress. "We are friends, Loki… please remember that. You can come to me if you need anything. Anything at all."

Slowly he reached up and pressed her hand to his face, as if to rest it there. “I know,” he murmured. “Loyal Sigyn, my closest friend…” He drew her hand away, holding it in his. His fingers tapped over it like chilled raindrops. He gave her a last deep emerald look before retreating to Odin’s bedside, opposite his mother.

As promised, Sigyn waited outside. At first, she merely paced up and down the hallway. But as the hours wore on and the night darkened, she sat on the floor next to the door, leaning against the wall with her shawl drawn tight around her.

Towards dawn, she was awoken from her light doze by the sound of boots tramping in unison down the hallway. She looked up to see the Steward of Asgard carrying Gungnir, Odin’s sceptre, followed by lines of the Einherjar. Without knocking, the steward opened the doors to Odin’s chamber and stepped inside. Without much in the way of preamble that Sigyn could hear, the steward knelt in front of Loki, presenting him with the sceptre. She could hear Frigga though.

"Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you. Until Odin awakens, Asgard is yours."

Stunned, Loki stared at the scepter offered to him by the kneeling attendant, Frigga’s words ringing in his ears. In a single moment, he had lost everything he believed to be true…only to be given what he had long hoped for. Had it been only the day before they had lauded Thor as he strode to accept the rule of Asgard as Odin’s designated heir? The jealous pain of that moment paled in comparison for his discovery of the truth of Odin’s choice of his brother over him: that he was a hostage child of a long-ago battle, not even an Asgardian by blood, but the cast off son of the Jotun king, Laufey. So much had made sense with that horrible revelation, so much which would belie what was now being offered to him. 

He reached for the gleaming Gungnir, grasping it in his own hands. The ravens perched near Odin cawed loudly as he raised it in front of him in amazement. Loki turned toward Frigga, toward the sleeping Odin. The queen spoke on, her voice gentle but still strong enough to fill the chamber. “Make your father proud,” she said, “my king.”

‘My king…’ He, Loki, was now King of Asgard, ruler of the Nine Realms, and he held Gungnir, the scepter-spear of Odin Allfather, in his hands as indisputable proof of it. Loki almost laughed in exultation, his eyes glimmering like gemstones with excitement. He could do this, he knew: he could prove his worth as the true heir of Odin. He would rule with far better skill than his blunt, unsophisticated brother Thor, so when the Allfather did awake from his sleep, he would find Asgard secure in its leadership under the son he had thought a useless captive relic. He would punish the Jotuns as Odin had, over a thousand years ago, and he would finish that war as it should have been then. He was the King of Asgard, not the monster Odin had plucked from the ice and snows of that crumbling world. And Laufey he would kill himself, the one who had abandoned him for what reason he didn’t care to discover. He would show all the realms that Loki was equal match to Thor and Odin in war. Gripping the spear in his hands he looked at Frigga, the queen, her eyes shining, so hopeful. He must not fail in this, he thought, and he must prevent Thor from returning before his plans were complete, if not forever. 

“I will make all of Asgard proud,” Loki said to her. “I will endeavor to rule as Odin would, with strength and wisdom, for the glory of Asgard and the security of all the realms.” He looked again at what he held tightly in his hands. “There are a great many things to which I must attend,” he said, and turned away, striding to the door. 

Sigyn had stayed outside, but she could hear what was being said. She wasn’t certain which of her swirling emotions at the revelation of Loki’s ascension was most appropriate. The guards parted to allow Loki to walk out and Sigyn hastily backed to the side, kneeling on the marble floor with her right hand in a fist over her heart, just as she would in Odin’s presence.

With Loki as king, she could no longer harbour any thought of being anything but his subject. Kings did not hold court with handmaidens, after all. And, it was entirely likely that their friendship would now be nothing more than a childish memory. That thought weighed heavy on her heart. And yet she was delighted at this development, even though it had taken extreme occurrences to set it in motion. Loki had always longed the chance to prove himself and this was it!

The Einherjar rose and flanked Loki as he began to walk down the hall, both hands still wrapped around the spear. He was lost in thought, so many details swirling around in his mind, how to set in motion his plans…He stopped abruptly. The guards drew up sharply around him. He waved them on to the throne room, and they went on without question. He turned back, transferring Gungnir to one hand, and wordlessly reached down to assist Sigyn to her feet. 

She looked up at him. eyes wide as she reached up and took his hand, letting him pull her into a standing position. “Your Majesty?” she said, the new title coming out as a question. “My apologies… have I done something wrong?” she asked, not having the slightest idea why he had come back to her.

He gave her a small, pitying smile. “Even after all this time, you still assume you’ve done something wrong,” he said. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Sigyn. It’s only that…” he looked at the spear with some pride, and with some eagerness. “…I’m not likely to have many more private moments soon. And I was…not myself, before.” He nodded. “Come with me,” he said, and began to follow after the guards. 

She followed a few paces behind him, clutching her shawl around her shoulders, wishing she’d not taken her hair down during her long vigil in the hallway. “I only assume I’ve done something wrong because… well, I haven’t done anything exemplary to gain the attention of a King. Therefore, it must be something I have done wrong, unintentionally.” she explained in a soft voice as they headed into the throne room. The guards had already taken their proper places as Loki stalked up the stairs that led to the throne. Sigyn stopped in front of the stairs, as was appropriate for one of her station. Unless she was accompanying the Queen, she could go no closer to the throne.

Slowly Loki ascended the dais steps to the throne and settled himself there, sinking back with a barely contained amazement. Then he looked at Sigyn and grinned like a satisfied cat. “It hasn’t been announced yet,” he said. “Mother will not leave Odin’s side. And I wanted—I wanted to share this, with…you. Alone.” For a moment, he looked like the boy prince she had first met, all those years ago, playing in the queen’s garden. “Come closer, won’t you? There’s only us here.”

She meant to demure, but she could not help smiling back at him, eyes shining. With his earnest expression and soft eyes, she found herself relaxing a little. Picking up her skirts so she wouldn’t trip over them, she walked up the stairs, not stopping until she was standing right in front of Loki. “Oh my… different perspective from up here, isn’t there?” she asked, looking back over her should to see the entire throne room spread out before them. She sat on one of the tall “arms” of the throne, even though there was room for her to sit next to Loki in the seat. She was not quite that brave to do something like that.

"Oh, Loki… this is amazing. Not that I rejoice in what’s happened to your brother and father… but this is… such a great opportunity for you!" she exclaimed.

Loki rested the scepter across his knees. “It is more than an opportunity,” he said softly. “It was an impossible dream, Sigyn. Odin never meant for me to take the throne, no matter whether Thor was suitable or not. No, it is true…he told me as much, before he fell into Odinsleep. No, he had other plans for me…he always does…” Loki fell silent, lost in thought for a moment. “Well, he didn’t anticipate my plans. Or Thor’s idiotic rush into his own downfall and my first problem.” Loki’s fingers tapped along the spear absently. 

"Your… first problem?" she shook her head, not understanding. "Whatever it was Odin had planned for you, you do not have to fall in line. You are your own, no matter what. And you know that, whatever you choose, your mother and I will both support you." she reminded him. "Besides, Odin is asleep, and while he may see and hear what happens, he cannot stop you." she said, reaching out the smooth a strand of his hair back into place.

“Have I ever ‘fallen into line’? I’m not a good little soldier, like Thor,” Loki sneered. Loki’s expression hardened, the smile gone. “And no, Odin’s plans mean nothing now. I must do what I think will serve the Realm Eternal best. Whether anyone else supports it or not.”

"You sound like you have something planned. Something that you think no one will approve of." she frowned, shaking her head a little. "Loki? What is it?"

Something in his eyes, a certain viciousness she had never seen before, scared her. A knot of utter dread was forming in her stomach, one that nearly swelled up to her heart when Loki didn’t seem to respond to her. “Loki? Loki!” She called his name, reaching out and shaking his left arm. “Loki, stop it. What has gotten into you? You’ve been acting like a hunted deer ever since you came back from Jotunheim. What happened?”

“What happened?” he repeated, tearing his arm out of her grasp. “Enough! Enough to know that there is no longer a peace of any kind between Asgard and Jotunheim, and there will never be again. We are on the brink of war, Sigyn; that is what Thor has brought on us, and that is the first test of my authority as King. There is no act of diplomacy that can repair the damage that has been done, and there may not have been any even before. The Jotuns truly are the monsters of which we have been told, Sigyn, lurking in the frozen ruins of their miserable, crumbling planet. They deserve no mercy, and they will find none from Asgard.” 

Sigyn’s eyes widened, the knot in her stomach nearly giving way to full on panic. “Loki… listen to yourself. Please. There must be another way. We have already had a truce with them for so long, why must it end because of one foolish act?” she shook her head, not wanting to imagine what impact a war would have upon the Nine Realms, to say nothing of Asgard herself! "Please, whatever it is you’re thinking, you cannot go through with it. You cannot do it!" she pleaded with him.

“I can do whatever I wish to do!” Loki snapped back. “And I will do what I must!” He stood, Gungnir tall in his right hand. “It was the truce that was the illusion, Sigyn. There was no true peace with Jotunheim even then….It was all a lie!” He looked over to her, seeing her horrified expression as she cowered back. “And who should know better about lies than I?” he went on, softer but still bitter. “Sigyn, there is nothing left for you on Asgard. Mother will not leave Odin’s side. I have work to do, and I…you need to be safe. Away from here. Go back to Vanaheim, go home until….this is over.” 

That stopped Sigyn in her tracks. She looked up at him, mouth hanging open, face gone pale. “You wish me to leave Asgard? But… but why? If we are headed for war, as you believe… Loki, I am a healer. My place would be here, seeing to the wounded.” she shook her head, copper curls falling over her shoulders. "Do not send me away, I beg of you. Asgard is my home now, not Vanaheim. Loki…" she reached out to him again, although she stopped short of completing the contact this time.

For a moment Loki stood still, eyes shining as he just looked at her. Then he turned away, descending the dais. Sigyn trailed after him, still pleading. He wheeled around, startling her once more. “Do not question me!” he shouted. “This is not some childish game! Go to the Bifrost now, and stay on Vanaheim until it is safe to return here! Go!” 

"N-now? Right… now?" she whispered, her voice wavering. "But…I-" she stopped herself the sharp, cold look in his eyes brooking no further argument.

She drew in a deep, slow breath, wishing it were steady as well. “I will do as you say, Your Majesty.” she said in a small voice, drawing herself up stiffly. For a moment, she waited, hoping he would change his mind and say that she did not have to go after all. When he said nothing, she closed her eyes, two tears sliding over her pale cheeks, falling to the floor. “Goodbye… my liege.” she said, heading the rest of the way down the stairs and out of the throne room, heart squeezing painfully with each step.

It was a long and tear-filled walk to the Bifrost; during which, Sigyn kept her head down, her arms curled tightly around herself. She did not stop, not even to go to her own rooms and pack any belongings. Loki had ordered her to go to the Bifrost immediately, so that’s what she would do. If Heimdall thought it strange that one of Frigga’s handmaiden’s was journeying to Vanaheim so early in the morning, he said nothing of it. She swallowed tightly as she looked down at her feet, at the spinning, churning colors of the Rainbow Bridge. Somehow, she knew it would be the last thing she saw of Asgard for a long time.

As motionless as one of the marble pillars lining the throne room, Loki didn’t watch Sigyn leave. Once her soft footfalls had ceased echoing through the chamber, he crumpled forward, leaning on the scepter. His fingers traced the floor, and the two small droplets of her tears hardened into glistening beads. He picked them up, cupping them in the palm of his hand. ‘It’s better this way,” he thought, rationalizing his harsh words. “Better she not know.” But the tears still stayed in his hand like an accusation. He walked back to the throne, falling heavily into the high seat. Closing his hand, he leaned forward, and wept. 

***

“I could have done it, Father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us!” 

It was a desperate plea, he knew, all of his plans gone a-wry, as he dangled over the edge of the world, the Bifrost falling away beneath them, shards of color of every hue bursting away as the bridge failed. Could there be one last moment of grace, some acknowledgment of him? There is always a purpose…

“No, Loki,” Odin said. “No.” 

…and there was nothing to hold on to, just the pull of defeat and despair, and he fell to sounds of Thor’s helpless scream, and he twisted away, falling, falling, reaching out to embrace it, the nothingness, the void of the Abyss, and wanting only to have it end, no more purpose, nothing, nothing, nothing….

There was numbing cold, and there was light, cold frozen light and there were faces, dark faces and burning eyes and there was magic and he was not the body he knew and the stars were cold and frozen and they were wrong too bright and too dim. And there was hunger and thirst and something more achingly primal and he was lost, lost but not alone and there was such need and he screamed and screamed and it was forever and then darkness then screams and howls and there were monsters, huge and newborn and serpentine and wolf-ravenous and blood, dark blood staining the snow and darkness again and the primal need again and there was a child, a dead thing, so ugly and so beautiful and young, then old and gone, and he was burning, burning in the glow of the cold fire, all around him fire…

…and he was alive, and there was a body he found familiar, and there was such pain, and he knew he was caught, there would be no escape, no stopping the torment and the damnation and why was he alive? What purpose…and he was himself, he was Loki, he was the sorcerer, the shape shifter, the fallen king, and he would rise again, and he would take what was his by right, and he had sired monsters and he would birth the end of existence and there was no solid matter only the light the searing frozen light….

…and he knelt to the power and he smiled in his agony and he was chosen for this task and was pulled back from the Abyss and sent on his errand and there were no illusions he was the puppet in the play the dancing doll the trickster warrior the will-less slave and he would never be free again…

he could feel him inside his skull, peering through his eyes, laughing at the misery, at the lovely destruction, of the offerings of death and war, and he wanted to rip out his mind, to break every malleable bone and sinew and drive out this inner demon possessing every thought, freezing every emotion, to shatter the silence behind his sewn lips and at last at last he broke and he was happy and he was going home and it didn’t matter, because he was Loki and he was alive and he was free…

…in chains they bound him and he laughed at the insignificance of it this was not important and he had no fear, he had no pain left, there was no threat left that would frighten him…and he was alone, in a box, deep beneath the ground, solid nothing is solid rock, and there he was left alone, and there was some peace in that… 

_***_

As she had been commanded, Sigyn had returned to Vannaheim. And it seemed as though she had barely set foot back in her own village that a cataclysm of some kind struck. Suddenly, no one could reach Asgard… and Asgard could reach no one else either. With no other way to travel between the Realms (at least, not without great risk and an awesome amount of dark energy) Sigyn and a handful of other citizens of Asgard were left stranded.

For some time, she took to her bed, weeping and refusing to eat or speak to anyone. But in the wake of whatever happened to Asgard, the need for skilled healers increased tenfold. It was with fierce determination, that Sigyn pulled herself from the lure of wallowing in self-pity. She was a gifted healer, that much she knew and took pride in. She could be of use. And should there ever be a way back to Asgard… a way back to Loki and to Frigga… she wanted it to be with honour, if not exactly glory.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months. Months to years. Near everyone had given up hope that Asgard’s forces would ever return to police the Realms and a sort of martial law had taken effect. There was fighting all over Vanaheim between tribes that had previously been peaceful only because the Asgardians had been there to moderate between them. Sigyn made something of a name for herself as a healer in mending the hurts of those fighting and those simply caught in the cross-fire. Word spread of one of Queen Frigga’s handmaidens that had been trapped on Vanaheim and could heal nearly any wound that did not outright kill. Soon people sought her out for things other than injuries. They would bring sick children to her, babies who refused to stop crying, women who wanted children but could not conceive, men who found they could not perform in the bedroom, people who heard voice and saw things that weren’t there. And Sigyn dealt with them all with patience and kindness and a soft word or touch.

Marauders arrived and began to loot and sack villages, simply because they could. It was during one such attack on her own village, that Sigyn saw several familiar faces that made her heart leap into her throat: Sif, Hogun, Fandrall, Volstagg… and Thor.

The champions of Asgard had returned and began to set right the damage done, and it was when they had succeeded in battle and had gathered up some of the prisoners to take back to Asgard that Sigyn learned what had happened…and nearly fell to weeping once more. Thor had returned, pardoned from his exile, and Odin had awoken—too suddenly, to Sigyn’s thought, but still had, the Rainbow Bridge had been shattered, the Bifrost destroyed…to save Jotunheim from Loki’s plan of utter annihilation. 

That Loki had known what he planned to do, that he had sent her away to Vanaheim before carrying out this terrible act of war…It broke her heart. Even more was her pain to hear he had fallen into the Abyss, and was thought lost to them. “And maybe it would have been better if he had been,” Thor added, speaking to her privately. He told her of Odin sending him to Midgard, using the few reserves of dark energy he possessed on this vital mission, to retrieve his brother and bring him back to Asgard. How he survived the Abyss, no-one knew, only that he had changed into something worse than ever before. “Lady Sigyn, he was not himself. Loki has gone mad. He regrets nothing, has shown no remorse for the suffering and death of many.” A look of pain crossed Thor’s face. “No-one can reach him, not even Mother, and many have tried.” He shook his head. “I know you think to try, but Loki is untrustworthy and dangerous. None may see him, by the order of the Allfather. But it is safe to return to Asgard now, and Mother has missed you greatly. We will bring you there, if you would return to her.” 

"Yes… yes, of course I wish to return to her. There is still much I have yet to learn and I have missed her greatly these many months." she nodded, still reeling a bit from this catastrophic news about Loki. "And… I… I find it so difficult to believe that Loki could have changed so drastically. Something must have happened to him to make him feel so… bereft. He was acting so strangely before he… sent me away." she said, biting her bottom lip a bit. Although she was friendly with Thor and the others, they had never been very close. But she was still Loki’s friend (even if he was no longer hers) and she felt it was her duty to try and comfort his brother, whom she knew he loved dearly. "You say others have tried to reach him… but how? Loki is stubborn and he feels things far more keenly than most would ever guess." she asked as they walked along to the spot where they could ask Heimdall to open the repaired Bifrost and call them back to Asgard.

“The hurts to his body healed quickly,” Thor said. “It is his mind we cannot reach. It is not stubbornness; it is madness. The queen has tried, but…” Thor shook his head. “He is…not himself.” The grief was obvious on his face. “We mourned him, when he first fell into the Abyss, we all did. This…what am I to do with this? There is nothing left of my brother, Lady Sigyn.” They had reached the portal for the Bifrost, and Thor took her hand with a small squeeze. “It is for the queen I take you back, not for Loki,” he said. “I know you are a healer, and one of her maids, and she…she too is grieving.”

"I will comfort her as best I can, Thor." she assured him, staying close to him for the trip back. Traveling through the Bifrost had never been easy for her and it was just easier to use Thor for support so she would not stumble and fall upon re-entry. Once back on Asgard, she bade Thor a gentle farewell and promised him that she would speak to him again soon. He was still grieving too, she could tell. And it was her skill to fix what was broken. Quick as her feet could carry her, she made her way to the Queen’s quarters, knocking on her door before announcing herself. “My lady? It is Sigyn. May I come in?”

There was a long moment before the door opened and Frigga peered out. She was as beautiful and composed as ever, but there was some signs of weariness in her expression, a sadness in her eyes. Seeing Sigyn her face brightened and she opened her arms to her long-absent lady-in-waiting, ushering into her rooms. She was alone, with no attendant, but there was plenty laid out on a table near the fire, and the queen welcomed her as Sigyn took food and drink.

“It was not long before we knew where you were,” Frigga said. “Heimdall was still able to see between the realms. Although it pained us greatly to be so cut off, I was confident that you were safe, and excelling on Vanaheim, as is your habit.” Seeing Sigyn blush, she continued. “It is true, Sigyn, you have far exceeded expectations in your service. Even when I chose to bring you from Vanaheim I knew you had certain unique gifts that were best nurtured on Asgard.” Frigga smiled kindly. “I see much of myself in you, Sigyn. You have patience and loyalty. You can soothe the savage beast and heal the wounds of many living things. And you understand the value of discretion.” 

“My queen,” Sigyn replied. “Thank you for your compliments. I have been told only a little of what has occurred beyond Vanaheim these two years, but…what happened here?” she asked, not daring to ask outright after Loki. 

Frigga smiled at her, the sadness stealing back into her eyes. “I’ll not give your false hope, Sigyn—Loki has been corrupted into something I cannot fathom. He has long been subtle and cunning, but I have not known him to be murderous; I cannot understand this new-found love of death and destruction, this chaotic fury…What he endured in the Abyss he will not tell, and perhaps he cannot fully remember, but that he was tortured is undeniable. We have done all we could for him, but not even your considerable talents, Sigyn, can help him. It is too dangerous to allow you to try, even if Odin would permit it.” Frigga took up the poker and stirred the embers of the fire. “I’m sorry, Sigyn, it is not to my liking, either. You must have questions; ask them, and I will answer if I can.” 

Sigyn nodded, looking down. The quick proclamation that even she could not help Loki struck her to the core, but she made no comment on it. “My questions can wait, my lady.” she said with a gentle smile. “I would rather hear how you are doing. It could not have been easy for you. I know that you were very close to Loki and his fall must have been terrible for you to endure.” she said, being somewhat vague on what she meant by using the term ‘fall’.

  
  


She refilled the Queen’s tea cup, the motions as familiar to her as ever despite two years of absence from the Queen’s table. She still remembered how Frigga took her tea. Without even realizing it, she made a second cup to Loki’s liking rather than her own. It was a natural progression for her since she and Loki had often taken tea with Frigga and Sigyn had always served Frigga first and then Loki and then herself. She caught her mistake a moment too late and, for a split second, was not certain what to do. Set the cup aside for the absent Loki? Or just take it herself and hope her lady did not notice the mistake? In the end, she simply sat back down pulling “Loki’s” cup in front of herself.

“We have long lives on Asgard, and I have endured many things,” Frigga said slowly, sipping her tea. “And yes, it has been terrible, these two years.” She set down the cup and sighed. “The most difficult battles are the ones we must face with ourselves,” she continued. “And I cannot help but wonder how I have been part of this. There are things I should have said…” She fell silent after a moment, looking at the flames. “On Midgard they once thought us gods, but we are as fallible as any being, and sometimes as helpless.” 

Sigyn frowned, watching Frigga’s face, seeing the guilt and worry settle on her lovely features. “My lady… my lady?” she said, a little alarmed when Frigga did not respond. She reached out, touching her hand, squeezing her fingers gently. “What is that you wish you would have said? Something to the Allfather?” she asked, thinking that perhaps Frigga wished she had protested Loki’s imprisonment more avidly… or somehow dissuaded him from his actions against Thor.

Frigga closed her eyes with a quiet sigh. When she opened them again, the guilt and worry had fallen away from her face, replaced with a determination that was not uncommon. “Loki will not hear the truth, but I see it must be told. I give it to you, and trust that you will decide if it ever needs repeating.”

“Despite my often choosing silence of what visions I am given, I believe that there should be few secrets in my family. I told Odin such when Loki was first brought to me, but he wished otherwise—for good reason. And I am his queen as well as wife, so I accepted his decision, but in my heart I did not agree that it would be wise to keep such knowledge from our son.

“Loki is not my child by birth. Odin brought him to me from Jotunheim as a foundling, to raise as our own son. This knowledge was kept from Loki to protect him, that he never feel different from his brother Thor, that they both live as true princes of Asgard. It was what we both feared when they broke our truce by going to Jotunheim, that Loki would learn the truth…and he did. 

“It did not make any difference to me or to Odin, but Loki thought it a betrayal, even if it had led to Thor’s banishment and his rightful succession to the throne of Asgard. He thought we had lied to him, that Odin had long favored Thor over him for so long because he was not of Odin’s blood...but he is wrong.

“Loki is Laufey’s son…and Odin’s.” Frigga looked at Sigyn intensely. “Odin himself doesn’t know the truth of this; only I have known it, until now. Loki is the child of both Laufey and Odin. 

“Jotuns are able to be both male and female, as you know, and the highest ranking ones are often most powerful magic users. One of the most powerful Jotuns known was a female named Farbauti: she had already birthed two Jotun warriors, but it is known to me that Laufey and Farbauti are one and the same. It was Farbauti—through her magic—that got a child from Odin, while disguised as me. Why Laufey wanted a child from Odin we cannot be certain. Perhaps to use the child to force a truce, or maybe to raise it in the hopes of matching powers with the AllFather to defeat him, we don’t know. But a child was conceived that night: Loki. He is a child of both worlds, Asgard and Jotunheim. 

“I can only imagine why Laufey hid Loki away and did not continue his plans. The baby was small for a Jotun child, and was crowned with soft dark down over his round little head, but his markings were extraordinary. Jotuns are born with birthmarks, and they read much into the destiny of their offspring in them. No Jotun known carried as many marks of power as Loki. So perhaps it was out of fear of him that Laufey chose to abandon him, or perhaps he still hoped to conceal him from Odin’s attention, but his plans failed whatever they might have been. 

“Odin, already half-blinded and weary from the battle, found Loki crying and alone in a Jotun temple. As soon as he had lifted the baby into his arms, the infant ceased his crying and shifted his appearance from Jotun to Asgardian, for his magic recognized his own blood, and Odin was compelled to bring him to Asgard. He was given to me, and I raised him as one of my own, as if I had birthed him, and kept his adoption secret, as Odin bade me to. 

“Loki sensed the difference, though, I am certain. So often he would read into others’ actions and find fault or slight when none was meant…and he has long been jealous of Thor. It is futile to try to reason with him now, but Odin never questioned Loki’s ability to rule. It was only that Thor is older, and they are both equally capable. Better still, we hoped they would support each other in leadership, for the good of all. But that hope is gone, now.” Frigga paused, drinking her tea. 

To say that Sigyn was shocked was an understatement. She sat complete stillness, staring at Frigga with wide eyes. Loki was adopted. Was a Jotun. Was Odin’s son, but neither Odin nor he knew that. And yet the revelation that Loki was not Frigga’s son by birth was the most shocking thing. "I would never in a million eons have thought that he was not your son." she said softly, looking down at her hands. "You and he are so… alike. Perhaps not in appearance, but…" She shook her head. "I can only imagine how much that must have hurt him to find that out. Poor Loki… no wonder he was acting so strange." she frowned, biting her bottom lip. "My lady… I can understand keeping the further secret from Loki, that he is from both Laufey and Odin. But why keep it from Odin?" she asked curiously. "Surely if you told him… perhaps he could be persuaded to show Loki some mercy?" Frigga gave her an odd look when Sigyn used the term ‘mercy’, as though it hadn’t occurred to her that Odin had been anything other than merciful. Sigyn blushed. “You said no one was permitted to see Loki. Solitary confinement for someone like him is… cruel. He has a mind that needs an audience, something to play off of. Left to his own thoughts and little else… if he is not mad already, he will drive himself to madness.”

“What good would it serve to reveal that Loki is Odin’s true son now? No, there are some things better not given much light. And it is from mercy that Odin isolates Loki; it was within his rights to execute him, but he can see well enough that Loki was damaged in both body and mind when he fell into the Abyss. I have done all I can to see to Loki’s comfort,” Frigga went on, “I have sent what I could from his rooms to him, and he has his books. And,” she added softly, leaning closer, “Odin has forbidden any person from visiting him, but there are ways I can still communicate with him. I dare not risk anyone else—if only for Loki’s sake for now; he truly needs rest and calm and time to heal what we may—but Loki is not completely forsaken.” 

"It might not serve any good, my lady. But, also… how could it hurt?" she asked. "Wouldn’t Odin want to know that Loki really is his son? It is… a secret that played a major part in all of this pain and misunderstanding. Would keeping another piece of the secret really make it better?" Her question was gentle and sweet, not wanting to sound like she was questioning Frigga’s motives or wisdom.

She stood, pacing a little when sitting still simply became too much. “I wish I could see him. Talk to him. Anything. I’ve missed him so much over the last two years… even without knowing what was happening. Loki was… and still is… my friend. And I have long…” she cut herself off, fearing that her next words would be going too far, even in front of only accepting Frigga.

Frigga rose and took Sigyn in a strong embrace. “I know what it is that you have longed for, my dear Sigyn, and I once hoped for it, too,” she admitted. She pulled back to look at her intently. “That path is not so clear to me now, for I see another beside you. Yet...I will bring word of you to my son: it may be that a reminder of your friendship will have some healing effect on him. A small hope, perhaps, but a hope, nonetheless.”

“When you do speak to him, my lady… please let him know that am thinking of him… and have hope for him yet.” Sigyn said, returning the queen’s embrace. “He may only laugh and think me foolish… but it may give him some measure of comfort.” Sigyn sighed and drew back, mustering up a smile for the queen. “I have been away for a long time, but I do still recall my duties to my lady.” she said, gathering up the remains of their meal onto the silver tray.

***

Loki didn’t even turn from the shimmering barrier that kept him confined to his cell when the image of Frigga appeared behind him. What could she possibly say to drain the bitterness that filled him? The cells around him had slowly become occupied by the lowest scum of the realms, and he had not welcomed it. Each captive criminal was another accusation leveled at him, another reminder of how low he had fallen. There would be no reprieve for him, and it would be a very long imprisonment. 

“Loki,” Frigga said. “I came to speak with you, however briefly. Thor and the others have returned from Vanaheim; Hogun has remained there to visit.” Frigga paused. “Sigyn has returned, also. She sends word to you, to say that she thinks of you and that she has hope.” 

Loki looked pained. “Hope of what, precisely? Visiting me? Seeing the latest exhibit in the zoo?” He spun around. “Tell her—“ he began, then stopped abruptly. “No. Tell her nothing. There’s no point. But she is a fool to have hope. You all are.” He turned back just as sharply, as Volstagg and Fandral brought in more of the rabble from Vanaheim. “Odin continues to bring me new friends; how thoughtful!” he sneered. 

Frigga waved toward the stacks of books piled about the room, along the wall, on the small round table. “The books I sent, do they not interest you?” she asked. 

He spun on his heel and paced in front of her. “Is that how I'm to while away eternity, reading?” 

“I've done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki.”

“Have you? Does Odin share your concern? Does Thor? It must be so inconvenient them asking after me day and night,” Loki replied acidly. In the entire year that he had been imprisoned deep under the palace of Asgard, no-one but Frigga had visited him, even as he began to come back to some semblance of coherent thought. And even that, he knew, was without Odin’s sanction, and not in person. The room was shielded, of course, not just by the energy net but with wards against his using too powerful magic. He could touch some of his talents, but only on the lowest level, and like a child he could only use them in amusement and to pass the time. 

Frigga’s expression grew stern. “You know full well that your actions have brought you here.”

“My actions!” he exclaimed. “I was merely giving truth to the lie that I've been fed my entire life, that I was born to be a king!”

This was not the first time they had quarreled over this point, and Frigga’s frown didn’t waver. “A king? A true king admits his faults. What of the lives you took on Earth?”

“A mere handful compared to the numbers Odin has taken himself,” Loki retorted. 

“Your father...” 

“He's not my father!” Loki shouted furiously. If there was a question of how precarious Loki’s sanity remained, his outburst left no doubt. 

Frigga’s frown became one of concern and compassion. She stood before him, speaking softly. “Then am I not your mother?” she asked. 

Loki hesitated, and for a moment, Frigga saw something of the son she remembered, the quiet, pensive boy who asked so many questions and hung on her every word. Then his eyes deadened, his face flattening into an expressionless mask. “You're not,” he said dully. 

Tears swam in her eyes, even as she pushed away the sting of his rejection. “Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself,” she remarked, taking a step toward him and reaching out her hands. 

Loki impulsively reached toward Frigga, his fingers dropping through the projection of her, and he watched her vanish with sadness. 

***

Sigyn had retired to her rooms to unpack and settle in. A few hours were much appreciated to readjust to being back in Asgard after two years on Vanaheim. Her peace was quickly shattered when an alarm went up, followed by the sounds of guards shouting and heavy boots running down the hall outside. She set aside her book and quickly headed out, rushing to Frigga’s rooms for further instruction. When the Queen was not there, she began to head down the hallway, only to almost run directly into Frigga and a small mortal woman whom Sigyn had not seen before.

"My lady, what is happening?" Sigyn asked, quickly turning around and falling into step with her, noticing with some dread that Frigga had claimed a blade from one of the guards.

"We’re not certain. Some sort of problem in the prisons," Frigga said.

Sigyn’s heart immediately leapt into her throat. “Loki?”

"I do not believe this is Loki’s doing." Frigga shook her head. "He would be far more subtle than this. Sigyn, this is Miss Jane Foster, Thor’s mortal beloved from Midgard. Jane, this is Sigyn, my most trusted handmaiden."

Sigyn nodded to the mortal woman, smiling a little, though her anxiety was clear. “Not to worry, Miss Jane… we will take good care of you.”

"Sigyn, should they come for us, I need your help." Frigga said as she led both girls into her rooms, shutting and bolting the door behind her. "I suspect that they might be here for Jane. I will mislead them with a duplicate. I need you and Jane to hide. Keep her safe, Sigyn. And, whatever you hear, do not give yourselves away."

"Yes, my lady." Sigyn nodded, taking Jane’s hand. "Come with me; we can hide in the alcove."

***

Loki feigned boredom at the chaos going on outside his cell, even as Volstagg, Fandrall and eventually Thor joined in the melee of freed captives. The shielding on his cell was still intact, so it mattered little to him what occurred outside of the room. He also felt no need to inform them of the monstrous creature that he had directed to the left stairs, considering that way lead to the guards’ barracks. His calm was an illusion anyway; in his mind, he was frantically fighting his rising panic. 

The creature that had started the prison break riot had burned the guards’ flesh to ashes in their very armor, and had paused in freeing the others to stare at Loki as it made its way out. Loki had held that stare, not at all afraid, almost a challenge to be released from his cell. A small hungry smirk had danced over his lips, as if he was enjoying the carnage. The burning glare that met his eyes didn’t waver, but it did not free him either, and Loki had flippantly suggested the choice of exit in part as revenge at having been left behind. Loki realized abruptly that there was another presence there, behind his eyes, watching all of this with an unbridled delight, and he felt a familiar nausea rush through him. After the events on Midgard, he had thought that bond shattered—which is why he had sought out that monster they called the Hulk in the first place—but the searing pain of that sadistic Titan was back, and still well-entrenched in his psyche. 

Was this all his doing? Loki wondered, a well of despair surging in his thoughts. It was obvious that he had waited until the right moment to show that his hold on Loki was still intact, but to what purpose? Was this another attempt at stealing that cosmic cube? And if so, what role was he to play in this unfolding coup? 

Loki quickly threw up the illusion of him reading at the edge of his cell, as if lost in the text, and paced around the room. Slumping on the bed, he absently fiddled with the few items Frigga had sent to him: a cup, a bottle, and several small boxes…the smallest box rattled as he moved it, and he flipped the top open. Two small yellowish gemstones rolled into the corner of the box. He tipped them out into his hand, his face suddenly sad. Sigyn’s tears…

***

Everything happened so fast, that Sigyn barely had time to comprehend it, let alone allow it to take shape in her mind. Noise and yelling and Thor screaming. Blood spreading far too quickly across the gold-flecked marble. Odin whispering low and soft to his queen. Jane seeking the comfort of Thor’s strong arms.

In her mind, Sigyn knew the Queen was dead. The woman she’d so long considered her mother and closest mentor, forever silenced by a Dark Elf that she’d once thought was only a villain in a bedtime story. She knew it was true, but her heart was numb, refusing to accept the shock of it. As they so often did in times of despair, her thoughts strayed to Loki. She knew Thor would send someone to tell him… but that was it. Neither Thor nor Odin would go to him themselves. And, most heart-breakingly in her opinion, he was not permitted to attend her funeral. She stood alongside of Amora and Lorelei, both women uncommonly serious. Sigyn voice rang out as the funeral song went up, alighting both Frigga and the others who had been slain in the attack to Valhala.

It was Theoric who was ultimately chosen to go inform Loki of the Queen’s demise. Fresh from his required attendance, still in his armour, Theoric made his way to Loki’s cell, keeping a respectful distance from the magic-infused windows.

"Your Highness." he greeted him cordially, tone neither warm nor cold. "I regret to inform you that the Queen was slain in this afternoon’s attack"

He waited only for a brief nod of understanding from the prince before turning on his heel and returning back upstairs.

***

…And the pain exploded inside his head again, battering each thought against his skull with misery. His fists balled out at his sides, his body stiff in anger and agony as the shadow within threatened to swallow him once more. He threw open his hands and vented his fury on everything in the cell, furniture and books crashing and tearing in a storm of grief and sudden loss. He held on to his shape, wrenching his mind back from the crushing bonds and cruel laughter echoing through his silent screams. He could hear the Titan, feel the squeeze around his heart, stealing his very breath, as the mockery of his helplessness slammed into him again and again: 

…Without hope without hope without hope….

Loki threw back his head and howled, howled his grief at the darkness. He tore at his clothes, his hair. Sharp pain stabbed at his foot and he threw himself at the walls, raking his hands against them, ignoring the sting of the energy net containing him or the slam of the power surge as it flung him to the opposite corner. He slid down the wall, banging his head from side to side, wailing incoherently, until he collapsed in a tattered heap. Weeping uncontrollably, his hands curved into claws, clutching at emptiness, and he shrieked out his impotent rage… 

…Without hope without hope without hope….

***

Sigyn was at a complete loss, not having the slightest idea what to do now. Without Frigga, she had no real purpose or place in Asgard. But to return to Vanaheim so soon after she had just returned seemed so incredibly rude to her.

She supposed she could finally join the healing halls and make herself useful there. True, it was several steps down from being a handmaiden to the Queen, but at least she could be useful.

That would make Theoric happy, she supposed, thinking of the Asgardian soldier who had been stranded on Vanaheim along with her and handful of others. He was a polite, upstanding sort of man, and quite handsome, she supposed. But she had always politely demurred his attentions, citing her devotion to the Queen and to her duties as a healer. She wasn’t quite certain what to make of him; gentle and attentive but so bland. But Frigga’s recent comment about seeing her with another man, a man other than Loki…perhaps she had seen Theoric.

***

He veiled his collapse with a simple illusion, one that would not drain what remaining strength he had in reserve. The relentless onslaught of Thanos had faded, leaving Loki listless and withdrawn, with nothing but his own grief and recriminations. He fixed on the image of the guard, the only contact outside this wall, the messenger of her death, and the distant words he had uttered, so official and so damning and so devoid of any meaningful detail. Did she suffer? He was suffering now, not knowing. He was alone now, alone and forgotten and buried alive. 

It wasn’t an illusion that pulled up the image of Thor in front of his cell. There was no greeting in his eyes, and he was draped in a mourning cloak of dull gray. He was the very image of grieving, and Loki tried to hide his impulsive outrage with a few unkind barbs. It had long been his defense to attack Thor with words when he could not physically do so, but this time Thor would not allow it. He dropped his pretense and his illusion. “Did she suffer?” he asked, the guilt of it unstoppable. 

He had expected heat from the man he had long called brother, but he was met with a coldness unlike the Thor he remembered. And what he was offering was something Loki had not expected from him in a thousand years: vengeance. Momentary freedom for vengeance, even knowing that he would be sent back to his captivity, it was sweeter than anything that he could have imagined, and it could not be refused. 

He leaned forward, his sly smile creeping over his lips without restraint. “When do we start?” he asked. 

***

Sigyn’s restless wanderings led her through the hallways, into one of the great corridors, hands clasped in front of her, eyes downcast. As she walked, she thought she heard voices whispering furtively, one a bit louder and less cautious than the other. Peering around a corner, she was shocked to see Thor… and Loki! The two of them were half hidden behind a pillar, apparently arguing as quietly as they could. A quick glance down the hall and Sigyn found a very real threat that whatever plan they had in letting Loki out of his cell: Theoric was patrolling and headed right for them. With nowhere for the princes to hide, they would certainly be seen!

Before she even realized what she was doing, Sigyn called out. “Theoric!” she said, emerging from her hiding spot, smoothing her hands over her skirts nervously. “Theoric, I… I was hoping I would see you.” she said, blushing. Lying did not come naturally to her in the least, but hopefully he would take her anxiety to be something else. “I… haven’t seen you since before the… the attack. I was worried you’d been hurt.” Just over his shoulder, she could see both Thor and Loki watching her.

It had been a clever trick, Thor getting the bonds on his wrists, Loki thought: they were iron and heavy with runes. But it was the sight of Sigyn that had stopped him from going after Thor as they made their escape. One of the guards was standing in front of her, just far enough to the side that he could see her..and if the guard were to turn his head enough, he would see them. Sigyn caught Loki’s gaze, and she smoothed down her skirts, a nervous habit she had never been able to break. One of her hand flicked up, shooing them away. Blushing, she looked up at the guard and said something right as he was turning toward them. Loki could just make out the features of the fellow, and realized it was the same face of the one who had told him of Frigga’s death. 

For a moment, Loki wanted to rush toward them. It was utterly irrational, but he wanted to speak to them, both for different reasons. The impulse was strong enough that he took a step toward them. Scowling, Thor reached back and pulled Loki along. Loki was compelled to follow, the runes on the shackles powerful and weighty. He shuffled along silently, knowing that Sigyn had given them the opportunity to escape undetected. 

Sigyn watched them out of the corner of her eye, all while trying to at least look like she was paying attention to Theoric.

"I am well, Lady Sigyn. And I am sorry for your loss. I know that you were very close to the Queen. However, perhaps I can cheer you up?" he was saying, voice low and soft.

"A bit of cheer would be welcome in this time of grief." she nodded, not at all prepared when Theoric took her hands and suddenly knelt on the marble floor. The pink of her cheeks immediately turned to red, heart in her throat. Oh please, any declaration but what she feared he was about to say!

"My lady, during our days stranded on Vanaheim, I have grown very fond of you. I know you wish to stay in Asgard… and, as my wife, you would be able to do that with purpose."

"W-wife?" she squeaked.

"Yes. I would be honoured if you would marry me, my lady."

A sound from the hallway that Loki and Thor had headed towards startled both Sigyn and Theoric, but she was quicker to react. “Yes! Yes, of course.” she said, using one hand to turn Theoric’s face back to her when he might have looked to where the princes were. 

Stars and stone, what had she just agreed to?

Theoric smiled up at her. “And all this time, I thought you did not yet return my affections.” he said as he stood up, still clasping her hands. “I know you are devoted, my lady… and you duties to Asgard may always come first for you, as mine will always come first for me. But perhaps, we can also be devoted to each other.”

"I… well… yes, I suppose that could be true." she allowed that much, hoping he would take her reticence as mere shyness.

Shouts went up from further out, crashing sounds, not unlike those that had occurred when the Dark Elf ship had crashed into it. Theoric swung around, sword out immediately. “Go to your rooms and lock the door, my lady. I will come for you when it is safe.” he said before taking off towards the noise.

Sigyn nodded, watching him go. It had to be Thor and Loki: with the Bifrost ordered closed, they must have commandeered the crashed ship to try and leave Asgard. She took a deep breath, sending up a silent plea that they were successful in whatever their plan was. And that Loki never have to return to his prison cell. If her engagement to Theoric had secured their escape, then she would gladly suffer through its completion.

Looking back over his shoulder Loki caught sight of the guard on his knees before Sigyn, and there was no question as to what his intention was. Shock and jealousy flared through Loki at this fleeting glimpse, and before he could stop he cried out her name. Her eyes still fixed on the one in front of her, Sigyn had cradled his face and had nodded her consent. 

Thor tugged at his bonds, urging him to hurry along. Not wanting to believe what he had just seen, Loki shoved away his dismay and fell in step next to Thor. “So, tell me what your plan is again?” he asked. “Steal a ship and fly it out of the palace, I believe. Do you even know how to fly a ship? You don’t often need one.” 

“How hard can it be?” Thor replied. “I’ll only need it to get to your secret pathway. You said it wasn’t far?” 

Loki hunched his shoulders, trying to hold up his manacled wrists. “It’s not far,” he said. It was easier for him to focus on this scheme than dwell on the unfamiliar emotions seeing Sigyn had brought up. Just being out of that miserable cell---even temporarily—was a relief, and he was already elated at Thor’s unusually cunning plan. The possibility of having his revenge was tantalizing, too, and one he would not hesitate to act on, regardless of Thor’s wishes.

***

Thanos looked out over the bleak grey world of Svartalfheim with some enjoyment. It was beautiful, desolate and dead, and it pleased him greatly. But he wasn’t here to admire the view. He looked down at the ashen, bloodless corpse at his feet. “I would have willingly handed you over to my beloved,” he said. “But I still have need of you. “ He opened his massive fist, releasing a shimmering spark that hovered above his palm in the dusty air. He tipped his hand over, shoving the light down toward the lifeless body. 

The body arched up as the spark dissipated into it, eyes flying open in terror and mouth screaming in agony. Gasping, his gaze fell on the Titan standing over him. “No…” he whispered, protesting. “Please….let me go…” 

“I am not ready to release you…yet. Get up,” Thanos said. “I have plans for you.”

Loki rolled on his side, gagging. His chest ached from the sudden shock of his revival, the rush of new formed blood pounding through barely healed flesh. Alive! He was alive, and he remembered dying, his heart pierced by Kurse’s blade even as he had condemned the corrupted Elf to the voids. They had a plan, his brother and he, and it had gone wrong, all wrong…He had wanted to tear Malekith to pieces, make him suffer for the murder of Frigga, wanted to cut open Algrim, wanted them to drink every last drop of his rage. Foolish and rash of him, but he had done what he thought was his final act. Yet it seemed that he could not even die with some satisfaction: he was still the puppet of this monster, Thanos. 

Loki felt himself drawn upward, dangling in front of the Titan like a discarded doll. “What is it you want from me?” he whispered. 

“Go back to Asgard. Take your throne from Odin All-Father, if you can. Rule the ruins of your world if you desire it. You will give me what I want when I ask.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do not think to fail me again, Asgardian. It is no great matter to rip this life away from you should I wish it.” 

Loki fell in a heap as Thanos turned away and vanished, leaving him glaring at thin air. Happy at least to be alone, Loki stood stiffly, looking out over the emptiness. And how was he to get back to Asgard, he wondered. He stumbled off, trying to remember where they had left the skiff that they had flown there, not sure it would even function. 

There was no way for him to know how long he wandered until he found the skiff…or rather, a skiff. Not far from the craft was the body of an Einherjar captain, one of the elite palace guards. Loki recognized him: Theoric, a guard from the dungeons where Loki was being held. Not a victim of the Elves, he thought as he stared at the dead Asgardian’s face and intact body. More likely Theoric had been an insignificant offering of Thanos to his darling Death. Loki sat down roughly near the fallen soldier. Theoric…Yes, it had been Theoric who had brought him the news of Frigga’s murder, the only one who had thought to inform the disgraced prince of what had occurred. And now he was dead himself. To what he was going back, Loki wondered. What had happened to Thor? To Odin? To Malekith? Loki began to wonder if he even cared, suddenly dreading what he’d find on Asgard if he were to return. 

But what else could he do? Where in the universe and all its dimensions could he hide from Thanos? And what if it was his moment to claim the throne of Asgard, in the aftermath of Malekith’s attack? No, he would return there, come what may. But perhaps not as himself, he thought. He was just strong enough to shift his appearance to that of the dead Theoric. Far easier to assess the situation as a palace guard rather than as the arrant disgraced prince of Asgard coming home to a questionable reception! 

He would use his own knowledge of the hidden pathways to return to Asgard. He didn’t care to travel using the Bifrost: for one, he wasn’t certain it had been fully repaired, or whether it was damaged again during the recent battle. He also wasn’t willing to risk encountering Heimdall, especially in disguise. 

Giving a small salute to Theoric, Loki powered up the skiff and took off, a gleaming blur across the grim horizon.

***

"My lady Sigyn."

Sigyn looked up from her book to see Theoric in the doorway of the library, currently empty but for the two of them. She set the book aside and stood. “Theoric, have you only just returned from Svardalfheim?” she asked. Odin had sent him after Thor and Loki a few days before and she had not been certain whether to hope he found them or not.

He nodded, expression fairly bland, though there was something strange in his eyes to her. “I have. Although there was no sign of Prince Thor or the mortal woman. But a body was found.”

Sigyn’s eyes snapped to his, her face going white. “A body?” she repeated. No sign of Thor or Jane, he’d said… but he had not mentioned Loki in that. “Stars above… L-Loki? Was it Loki?” she asked, having to be sure.

He nodded, looking sympathetic. “I am sorry, my lady. But Loki is dead. I have heard that you were… somewhat close to him?” it came out like a question.

But Sigyn heard nothing after the catastrophic pronouncement of Loki’s demise. Her right arm flailed back, knees suddenly feeling weak as she sat heavily in her chair. She stared at the floor, though the patterned rug blurred before her gaze as tears filled her eyes. “No… oh, please no… not Loki…” she whispered, not speaking to Theoric, but not certain who she was pleading with either. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, harsh sobs seeming to tear from her chest.

Propriety in the presence of her fiancé completely forgotten Sigyn only barely kept from screaming out her grief. In truth, she barely made a sound other than strained whimpers and gasps for air, shoulders shaking, one hand pressed to her mouth to stifle herself.

“Sigyn?” Theoric asked, alarmed. “I didn’t mean to so upset you…I—“He moved to her side, worry written clearly on his features. He sank down in front of her, taking the hand limp in her lap in his. “I didn’t realize how much Loki meant to you,” he said softly. “I should not have given you such news in that way.”

It was several moments before she could speak, and even then, her voice was strained and unsteady. “No… no, it’s not your fault, Theoric. I do not think there is any way you could have told me that would have upset me less.” she shook her head. "Truth be told… Loki and I are… were… the best of friends. He was… everything to me." she admitted, her other hand pressed tight against her heart. "I never… I never got to tell him… just how important he was."

Theoric lowered his head, gently squeezing her hand in his. “You are a rare woman, Lady Sigyn,” he remarked. “And Loki was a fool if he did not know the depth of your friendship.” He gave her hand a kiss, and released it. “You have lost so much recently, and you deserve so much more. Asgard needs you to help it heal.” He rose to his feet, reaching to hold her shoulders. “Smiles suit your face better than sadness,” he said. Leaning down, he gave her a small kiss on her forehead. “I must go to the All-father, but I’ll return as soon as I may.”

She almost shied away from his kiss, but his words held her in place. Smiles suit your face better than sadness. Loki had said much the same thing to her… on the day they’d met; when he found her crying in Frigga’s garden.

She swallowed tightly, looking up at him, eyes still filled with tears. “Yes, he will need to know. My apologies, I did not realize you had come right to me… I would have thought you would report to the Allfather first.”

That was odd--Theoric was dutiful almost to a fault where Odin was concerned. Why had he come to her side first rather than bring news to Odin? Perhaps he feared the Allfather would be angry that Thor had not been found… or that Loki had, but not in the way he wished.

“I should have done so,” Theoric said slowly, “but we are newly betrothed, and…the thought of you was foremost in my mind. You are right; I should not delay further.” He strode to the door, only to turn and look back at her. “I will ask for the All-father’s blessing for our marriage, if I am able,” he said. “I’ll return when I may.” With a quick bow, he was gone. 

***

“We found a body…” The guard’s words were delivered in an almost off-hand way, not as the tragedy that it might have been to Odin. And perhaps, Odin thought, the guard assumed it would not be so unwelcome, given the assurances he had just proclaimed, that Malekith’s great plan of omnipotent destruction had been thwarted and the aether contained once more, this time forever. But the uncertainty of Thor and Jane’s precise location did not off-set the casual mention of this found corpse; however, it did make something very clear to the All-father the moment it was uttered. 

“Loki…” Odin murmured. He was not fooled, and the guard’s mocking smirk only confirmed it. 

“Too bad,” Loki remarked, the illusion of Theoric evaporating like mist from around him. “It would have been nice to see if you mourned my demise for even a moment. But I expect too much.” 

“Where are they?” Odin demanded. 

Loki gave a small frown. “What, no ‘tell me the tale of how every single life in the Nine Realms was saved by Loki’s clever tricks’? No questions on my escape from that box you locked me in, with the most kind assistance of your loyal Thor and his friends? No, that would be far too great a thing to ask of the great and mighty Odin! Only suspicion and judgment from him for Loki!” 

Odin stood unmoved. “Where are they?” he repeated.

Loki shrugged. “Never mind they are alive and well, again thanks to me. Thor’s probably run back to Midgard with that mortal girl, Jane. I doubt she’d have to persuade him. What would you have him do? Abandon her a second time, expect her gratitude for merely leaving her alive?” 

At this Odin frowned. “Thor will return to Asgard. His place is here.” 

“On the throne, as your heir? As champion of the Nine Realms, keeping the peace at your command?” Loki sneered. “Can it be that the All-Father has lost all sight, or has he forgotten so soon what it is to love a woman?”

“Do not bring my grief here, Loki, to evade my questions or demand your glory! I would see your brother returned before me to give full account of this matter.”

“Well, I don’t know where he is. Ask Heimdall.” Loki winced, a brief flicker of his eyelids. “When you find him, I’m sure he’ll tell you all the details. I suppose I should let you ask Thor, anyway; you wouldn’t trust my account.” 

“And why should I trust you, Loki? You have long been full of lies and trickery.”

“It was my lies and trickery that saved us all, Odin, and so Thor himself will tell you!” Loki shouted. “What more must I do to prove myself worthy? “ Loki’s hands balled into fists at his side, his face contorted in rage. “Do you really think that Thor can rule better than I? Who has learned better from you, Odin?” 

“You think yourself the better pupil, Loki?” Odin retorted, rising from the throne. “Your brother has proven himself worthy. He repented his error in his banishment, and has fought to restore peace to the Nine Realms from the discord you brought on us.”

“And what is your expectation now--that Thor would return as your puppet king so you can weep and slumber away your grief? And what of Loki; am I to meekly bend my neck to your chains and muzzle once more?” Loki spat back. “I can mourn the death of Frigga alone in my cell, is that it?” 

“Do not mistake me, Loki. I have lost all I hold dear in this.” Odin turned away, full of sadness and defeat. “I don’t expect you to understand this pain, for you cannot know it. Often leadership demands such sacrifice. It is as much burden as blessing.”

“Do not preach to me of pain, Odin All-father! I have suffered through the very depths of the Abyss! You might think my heart to be as cold as the world from which you stole me, but it was broken even before I fell. And I tell you now, my loss is the greater. “

Odin turned back to Loki. “And for what purpose did you return here, then? The people will not follow you, Loki, certainly not now, and for all your magic you cannot bring her back.”

Loki’s rage melted into anguish. “I know,” he said softly. “That was not among her lessons.” He looked into Odin’s face, his sadness mirrored there. “Is there truly no hope left for me here? Did she despair of me, too?” He sank down to sit on the lower step of the throne’s dais. “Am I so unappealing a choice?” he asked bitterly. “You cannot say that Frigga thought so. And I did rule, for a short time, in your stead, when you had need. Not only did I not kill you then, but I saved your life while you slept.” 

Odin looked at the despondent form on the stair below him. “Loki, that you can rule I don’t question. But that you are truthful? I cannot say that.” 

“They follow you,” Loki replied. “And you need only to name me heir for the people of Asgard to accept me. Then you rule as you will until the Sleep overtakes you again. Frigga is no longer here to act as advisor to you; let me stand in her stead, then. You know I speak reason.”

“You forget Thor,” Odin remarked. “Thor is the rightful heir of Asgard and he will return to his home and rule in my stead, as is his duty.” 

“And if he refuses?” Loki replied, looking back to Odin, his expression bland. 

“He will not.” 

“On the contrary, I think he will. You will not suffer a Midgardian to rule beside him, and he loves Jane Foster.”

With one piercing eye, Odin stared into the face of the foundling he had brought to Asgard, saw the terrible conviction in Loki’s eyes. He saw the lingering suffering, the unimaginable pain. Odin was aware that the invasion of Asgard and the death of Frigga had pushed him beyond the small reserve of power he had left from his interrupted Sleep. He knew it was merely a matter of time. “I propose…a test,” he said slowly. 

“Of Thor?” Loki asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. 

“Of you,” Odin replied. “If you would rule Asgard in my stead as I sleep, I would see if your magic is as strong as you profess. I would hear from Thor’s own lips his refusal of the rule of Asgard. If you can show your illusions can fool even your brother—if you can assume my form so completely—then I will allow it.” Odin held up a warning finger. “And only if Thor refuses his duty, of his own free will. Know that I will be watching, Loki.”

“I will want you to be watching.” A slow smile crept across Loki’s face. “Done! We have a bargain, then,” Loki said. “When Thor returns, you will bear witness to his abdication, and you will see that I am worthy of ruling Asgard.” 

***

Unaware of the unprecedented conversation happening in the throne room, Sigyn swiftly made her way to her own rooms, seeking more privacy then even the library could offer. Once the door was shut behind her, she leaned against it and slid down to the floor, curling her legs in front of her. Her dress was getting dirty, but she didn’t care.

She had not stopped crying since Theoric had given her the dreadful news of Loki’s death. But now, alone and away, she allowed herself to give full voice to her grief. She sobbed openly, wailing and rocking back and forth like a madwoman. What was the last thing he’d said to her? For a moment, she couldn’t even remember.

“ _Sigyn, there is nothing left for you on Asgard. Mother will not leave Odin’s side. I have work to do, and I…you need to be safe. Away from here. Go back to Vanaheim, go home until….this is over.”_

_"This is not some childish game! Go to the Bifrost now, and stay on Vanaheim until it is safe to return here! Go!”_

He had ordered her to go back to Vanaheim… so she would be safe. At the time, she had not quite believed that was his true motive, thinking that he believed her too weak to handle whatever it was that was coming.; and the command had been about as welcome as a prison sentence. But now, knowing what happened afterwards… she believed he really had been trying to protect her. That his last words to her had truly been of concern for her well-being.

She thought of the brief glimpse she’d had of him only a few days ago. Still as tall and lithe as ever, almost lanky when presented next to Thor. He had been paler than before, no doubt due to a year spent underground. And his hair had been longer, but still the same raven black.

As always, she tried to comfort herself with practical matters. She wondered if they would retrieve his body and bring him back to Asgard for a proper funeral. If so, maybe she could ask to help prepare his pyre since Frigga was gone and Thor was missing and she doubted Odin would do so. Loki had no other family… and she was his friend.

After nearly on hour spent sobbing on the floor, her head aching and her body shaking with sheer exhaustion, she crawled across the floor and pulled herself up onto her bed. Once she was lying down, she flailed one hand out towards the little table that served her as a nightstand. Her fingers met soft silk; green hair ribbons that Loki had given her for Yule one year when they were still quite young. She had worn them very frequently ever since… and had been wearing them when she’d left for Vanaheim. During her long sojourn there, she had often held on to them, silently hoping that she would someday see Loki again.

She repeated the ritual now, curling the long ribbons around her fingers and curling her arms against her chest. In her head, she simply chanted his name. Loki. Loki. Loki. Loki…

There was a polite tap at the door. “Lady Sigyn?” Theoric came in cautiously. He wasn’t wearing his helmet, and looked far more at ease off-duty. “Are you here?” he asked, peering about darkening room. The sun was setting, and she had not put up the lights or had the fire set. He spotted her on the bed, green ribbons still woven through her fingers. “Sigyn?” 

She had cried herself to sleep, but woke when she heard Theoric’s voice.. “Theoric… oh, I… I must have… fallen asleep. My apologies, I meant to be back in the library by the time you were done reporting to the Allfather.” she said, blinking blearily up at him, sitting up and hoping her voice sounded steadier to him than it did to her.

“It was longer than I anticipated,” Theoric replied. “When I did not find you there, I thought to come here.” His handsome face creased with concern. “I came as soon as I was able. There were things to which I had to attend, but I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long. Are you all right? I don’t recall ever seeing you so upset; you’ve been crying.” He drew up a stool beside the bed to sit on. “I understand your sadness of your loss; of all of her subjects, you were closest to the queen, and…I suppose, to Loki. But you shouldn’t worry, Sigyn; once we are wed, you will never have to leave Asgard again. We will have a place of our own here; I’ve been looking into it. We can be wed as soon as you like; we all need something joyful to help us heal...” 

She nodded, raising one hand to push a few of her curls back over her shoulder, the green ribbons still twined around her fingers. “I am… all right… I suppose. Mourning is a process more than a single event.” she said, wiping the remaining dampness from her cheeks. "Odin gave his blessing to the marriage then?" she asked, letting him take her hands in his. Funny, Theoric had never directly invited physical contact before, but he seemed very comfortable with it now. Perhaps the engagement had made him feel a bit more bold.

“I’ve given him our petition to be wed, yes,” he said. “We need only decide on when.” He looked at her intently. “And…I’d like that to be as soon as possible.” He drew her hands up to his lips to kiss them, ribbon and all. 

She blinked in confusion and sighed, almost imperceptibly. “I suppose the earliest it could be arranged would be in a week. Although I do not understand your need for haste?” she said, making it a question in hopes of getting some explanation from him.

Theoric blinked slowly. “I only thought that it would help raise us from our too-recent pain,” he said. He gently drew the ribbon out from her fingers and rolled it up absently. “And every moment of waiting seems an age to me. I have wanted this for some time,” he confessed. “I know it will take more time to seal the arrangement, but neither you nor I have family to consider in this. I have the silver for it, I promise you; price is no object—“He paused, realizing he was babbling, before going on at a steadier pace. “I have asked Odin for his blessing in place of your father, and I asked as soon as I was able. I will ask Thor himself to bear witness to our union, that all will know I would be a proper husband to you. And there is nothing I want more.” He handed her the coiled ribbon, closing her hand over it. “I know you don’t know me as well as you’d like, perhaps, but we will have many years together, I hope, and we can grow to love each other, could we not?”

She swallowed tightly, looking down at their joined hands. “It never crossed my mind that you would not be a proper husband.” she assured him. “You are kind and polite… and your wealth has never been a concern of mine. I know you will do your best by me.” She licked her lips, looking up at him, still a bit surprised by how… tactile he was now. However, it was not entirely unwelcome. She was quite tactile herself and, with Frigga and Loki both gone, there was no one else she could turn to. She let out a breath and leaned closer to him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “Whenever you wish for the ceremony to take place, I will gladly marry you. And I will do my best to be a dutiful wife to you.” she said softly.

“I know you will,” he replied quietly. Absently he stroked her hands under his, leaning his chin on the top of her head with a small sigh. “You’re the most loyal friend I could ever have,” he murmured, tracing up over her wrists and hugging her arms in a gentle, rocking embrace. She was so warm, and sweet and serene in his arms… 

She closed her eyes, enjoying the closeness. But his words made her blink. His most loyal friend? But they barely knew one another… he knew nothing of her loyalty and she had not yet done anything to demonstrate such a quality to him. She squeezed the ribbon still coiled in her hand, closing her eyes once more.

Gentle as a butterfly, she opened her senses, like opening a window to see what the weather was like. All over Theoric, she could feel the liquid warmth of magic… the same feeling she had gotten from Loki whenever he was casting an illusion, usually as a joke or a trick. She swallowed hard, wondering if maybe… just maybe… this was another of Loki’s plans. After all, how else could he return to Asgard and not be re-imprisoned. Perhaps the guise of another was the only way he felt he could come back.

"When should we have the ceremony then?" she asked, putting just a little more sweetness in her voice, shifting just a little closer. She would have to be very careful in figuring out if she was right or not.

“It depends greatly on when Thor returns, if we are to have him as witness. It will take time to prepare the feasts, procure the mead and your gown and all those things, but Odin has given us leave to be wed on any Friday we desire. Have you anyone to assist you? I will help if I can,” he said, a bit doubtful. “If it were up to me, I would not wait another hour; I have beauty enough in front of me than to need the trappings of flower and cloth.” He smiled with an eager anticipation. “But I suppose I must allow for propriety, after all. We want to have this be a blessed event.” 

She sighed softly. “I do not have anyone to help me, no. I suppose I will take care of such things on my own. Is there anything you specifically wish for insofar as my gown or… erm… decorations or anything?” she asked, assuming that, like most grooms, he was not going to want to be directly involved in the decision-making. Men were far more interested in the wedding night than in the wedding itself.

“No, not really,” he said, “Although…there should be roses, I think…They suit you. And…maybe…green? A light green, for your gown? It would complement your hair.” He leaned in, rubbing his cheek against her braided honey hair. “I am sorry; this is not my area of expertise, and I don’t…that is, you should have friends to help you with this…” He drew back, suddenly awkward. He spoke in a soft whisper. “I am so very sorry, Sigyn, that Frigga is not here to share in this with you. She should have been.” 

A soft sob rose up in Sigyn’s throat, though she audibly swallowed it down, her eyes stinging with new tears. “As am I, but you need not apologize for it. It was not your fault.” True words whether she spoke to Loki or Theoric, she reasoned. “I will put together what I can. Have we any idea of when Thor will return? I would imagine that he is not overly eager to leave Miss Jane again. Perhaps someone should retrieve him? After all, he does not even yet know his presence is requested for a wedding, and, to be completely honest, Thor is not one to consider such things on his own.”

“He will return soon, I should think. There is no word of him giving report to Odin, although we all have seen his heroics on Midgard. If I am able, I will extend the invitation then.” Theoric sat back, suddenly pleased. “Perhaps he will bring Jane Foster with him. I know it is not much, but a bride should have a maid at her wedding.” He turned her face to his, brushing away the dampness on her eyelids. “I should go, and let you sleep. We’ve much to do.” For a long moment, he cupped her face in his hands, as if to kiss her, but he dropped them and stood back instead. “Sleep well,” he said, “I hope to find you tomorrow, when my duties permit.” He quickly strode across the room, as if he would turn back if he hesitated, and was gone. 

***

From his perch on the throne, Loki wondered exactly how Odin saw his subjects when they were before him. The room itself was vast and open, but the throne itself was surrounded by the elaborate carvings and set high up on its dais, with many stairs leading to it. Thor looked small in comparison, bowing before it in reverence to the Allfather. The last time Loki had seen his brother it was on the black gravel of Svartalfheim, as he was dying. He had to remind himself that it was as Odin that he appeared before Thor now, and that his brother thought him dead. 

Looking at Thor now, Loki could see the change in him. He had matured, become the leader they had both been taught to be. There was a new-found gravity in his manner, an odd humility that Loki had never seen in him. For a brief moment he was concerned that Thor would return to Asgard as heir to the throne. Better to deal with that possibility if it should arise, he thought. That was not Thor’s manner before him, and there had been enough times that they had been brought before Odin as wayward princes caught at their mischief that he knew that contrite act well. No, he would play this out, to be sure that Odin could not deny that Thor was truly refusing his kingship. 

Two could play at this game, after all…

“You once said there would never be a wiser King than me,” Loki spoke, using Thor’s own words, spoken to Odin after he had fallen from the ruins of the bridge. Thor had told him they had mourned him, but Loki wondered if Odin truly had. “You were wrong. The alignment has brought all the realms together. Every one of them saw you offer your life to save them. What can Asgard offer its new King in return?” 

_I’m offering it to you, brother Thor, like a ripe apple,_ Loki thought.The fact that Odin was witness to his words made all the sweeter, to add the jab at his lack of success as Thor triumphed in the view of all. 

Thor rose from his kneeling, looking up at Odin with a sincerity that set Loki’s teeth on edge. “My life,” he replied. “Father, I cannot be King of Asgard. I will protect Asgard and all the realms with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair. Loki for all his grave imbalance understood rule as I know I never will. The brutality, the sacrifice, it changes you. I'd rather be a good man than a great King.”

“Is this my son I hear, or the woman he loves?” quipped Loki, startled by his brother’s compliment and pleased at Thor’s refusal. Loki would not have Odin think that Thor spoke only out of a desire to stay with that mortal Jane Foster. 

“When you speak I never hear Mother's voice. This is not for Jane, Father.” Thor answered. “She does not know what I came here to say. Now forbid me to see her or say she can rule at my side, it changes nothing.”

Interesting…what had happened on Midgard that would sway Thor so, other than love? “One son who wanted the Throne too much, another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?” Loki mused. 

“Loki died with honor, I shall try to live the same. Is that not legacy enough?” 

Unable to speak, Loki merely nodded his—or rather, Odin’s—head. Hearing Thor say those words meant more to him than he cared to admit. Honor; he had died with honor, as an Asgardian should, and Thor had sworn to live in imitation of that honor…He leaned back on the throne, fighting the urge to drop the illusion and draw his brother to him in an embrace. 

Thor held out his hammer Mjolnir to him, offering it back to the Allfather, but Loki waved it away. “It belongs to you, if you are worthy of it,” he said, knowing that he would not be able to lift it in any case, and Thor had shown himself to be the one to wield it. 

“I shall try to be,” Thor said with a sincere smile. 

“I cannot give you my blessing, nor can I wish you good fortune,” Loki blurted out. Fortunately, those would be words Odin would have spoken himself, but that had not been Loki’s intent. In that moment Loki had the smallest touch of self-loathing at this charade, and he envied his brother’s clear conscious and noble intents. 

“I know,” Thor nodded, turning to leave. 

“If I were proud of the man my son had become--,” Loki went on, “--even that I could not say.” Odin might not ever speak it out loud, Loki thought, but perhaps he could give Thor one last thing for his sacrifice. “It would speak only of my heart,” he finished, and he meant of the pride he held of his brother in his heart, regardless of the one whom they had called father. “Go, my son.”

The relief was clear in Thor’s voice. “Thank you, father,” he said, and with a small bow he left. 

Loki watched after him until he was gone before allowing his smile to spread over his face, the illusion of Odin dropping away. “No,” he murmured. “Thank you.” 

One of the ravens gave a loud rasping caw and fluttered its wings. The doors behind the throne opened and Odin stepped out, face unreadable. Loki barely turned his head, but rose from the throne and descended the stairs. “So, you heard from his own lips, of his own free will. It is not through sorcery of mine or love of the mortal woman that Thor refuses the rule of Asgard. And he spoke plainly to you, Allfather; not for a single moment did he suspect it was I.”

“True,” Odin said pensively. “Although your speech was not so perfect an imitation, I think.” Loki frowned. Odin waved a dismissive hand. “You have passed this test, Loki, and I will honor our bargain. Thor spoke well on your behalf, unknowingly. Perhaps some time you will tell me of your death…and how you survived it.” Loki remained stubbornly silent, and Odin sighed. “It is not so important, then; keep the secret of your tricks to yourself. Go, now, there is still much to be done before I sleep; Asgard must be renewed.”

***

With Thor’s return, things progressed quickly in terms of preparations for the wedding. Several of Frigga’s maidservants had re-assigned themselves to helping Sigyn out, going with her to the seamstress about her gown, seeing about flowers for the ceremony and for Sigyn’s hair, preparing a menu for the feast afterwards and other such trivialities.She played the blushing bride, although she was still uncertain as to what manner of man she was marrying.

If it was indeed Theoric, then he was showing far more affection and wit and charm than she had ever believed him capable of. If it was Loki, as she was increasingly growing more and more suspicious of, then how did he expect to maintain this illusion indefinitely? And why would he do this at all?

She had taken up the habit of wandering through the halls to be alone with her thoughts and let her feet carry her where they may. It was in one such constitutional that she rounded a corner and was run into head on by a hurrying Theoric.

His arms had been filled to overflowing, and the items flew into the air like a startled flock of birds, book pages and garments fluttering as they crashed down, smaller items scattering over the marble floor. Theoric and Sigyn fell in a tangled pile, each trying to catch each other and the items as they collapsed with gasps and exclamations. 

"Oh! Oh my! I’m so sorry! I did not see you!" she exclaimed, rubbing her wrist, now smarting from where had tried to catch herself. "Let me help you." she said, starting to gather up some of the scattered papers and other items. Her skin tingled where they had touched, though she did not notice it right away. Only when she picked up a small, carved box did she notice, her fingers shaking a little as she picked it up. Something small rattled inside of it and she clutched it closer so she would not lose her grip. "Here… why don’t I help you… what is all of this, anyway?"

“Sigyn!” Theoric had gasped, frantically pushing aside the clothes he was entangled with, and rushing to first to see that she was unhurt and at the same time sweep up as many things in his arms’ reach as he could. “Are you hurt? I didn’t see you…This is nothing important; you needn’t concern—“ He broke off from his protestations when he spied the small box she was holding. Wordlessly he reached out his hand. 

"I am not hurt." she shook her head. For a second, she wasn’t certain what he was asking for. Then she looked down at the little box in her hand and blushed. Of course… the trinket box must contain something he wished to keep safe.

She reached out, handing it over, but the tiny latch on the box had been knocked loose when it fell and now it gave way entirely. The little lid flipped open, allowing two small, clear golden gemstones to tumble out, clinking to the floor.

She gasped, knelt on the floor, quickly gathering the gems up quickly before they could scatter and be lost. “Oh! I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, scooping them up and looking down at them, pausing. These… looked exactly like the gemstones she still kept in her jewelry box… the ones Loki had made of her tears when they had met in Frigga’s gardens.

He sat back with a frustrated sigh. He knew that Sigyn would recognize the little gems, and now what was he to say as to how they wound up in her beloved guard’s possession? He didn’t bother to try. 

She blinked, staring at them a moment before carefully slipping them back into the box and then handing the box back over to him. That…that settled it. There was no reason in the world why Theoric would have those gems… and every reason why Loki would. Come to think of it… she knew the books he was holding as well. They were Loki’s books from his mother; Pythagoras, Keats, and several other Midgardian authors. She licked her lips and stood, holding a few of the books and other things in her arms. “Where are we headed?” she asked simply.

He blinked, turning the small box in his hand. That she knew it was he was not a question, yet she had chosen not to reveal that fact, nor did she seem surprised that he was alive and disguised as her fiancé. He wished he could read her thoughts in that moment, to know what path he should take. To drop his illusion now was a risk, he knew, even once they were out of public view. Sigyn was not a good liar, and he doubted she would be able to conceal his identity in front of Odin and Thor for long. Yet she seemed to accept his disguise without question...She had to know the truth; her expression said as much. Not knowing what else to do, he gathered up the remainder of his things and stood up. “I was moving these to storage,” he said. ‘Foolish of me to take it all like this; you could have been injured.” 

"I have a better idea." she said, blushing at little and turning towards another hallway. "Come with me?" she asked, starting to head in that direction. Once she was certain he was following her, she picked up her pace a little heading through the hallways and following a path she knew well… soon they came to the wing that contained the royal family’s personal rooms. There were no guards anymore since Frigga was gone, Loki supposedly dead, Odin was on the throne, and Thor out in the training fields. Quiet as a mouse, she stood by Loki’s door, looking to him expectantly. Loki, like Frigga, often warded his rooms with magic to keep snoopers out. It was part of the reason there had been no pyre after he’d fallen from the Bifrost… without his body or access to his possessions, there had been nothing to burn.

He gave a small smile when he saw where Sigyn had led them. It was so much her way to demonstrate her knowledge of his secret so quietly. There was no excuse to continue this charade with her, come what may. He set down the load he was carrying and stood before the doors of his old quarters. He removed the wards placed there, careful on not to trigger some warning of their removal. It took longer than expected; he still held the illusion of Theoric’s form around him, unwilling to drop it while there was any chance of being seen. When the doors yielded, he quickly gathered up his things and ushered her inside, sealing the door behind them.

Sigyn carefully put down the items she had carried, then turned to face Loki, arms crossed over her chest. “Well then. I suppose you have some explaining to do, yes?” she asked, although it was clearly a request rather than a demand. “Please… let the illusion fall. You must be exhausted from maintaining it constantly. Have you even slept?”

With a shiver, the illusion dissipated, leaving an exhausted Loki standing in front of Sigyn. “Not much,” he admitted. “I’ve been sleeping, when I can, in a shifted form--for the most part as a cat.” He shrugged at her frown. “I couldn’t risk the exposure, yet. Only Odin knows that I still live.” He looked around the room. It was dark and neglected, having being sealed for two years. “I didn’t intend to deceive you, Sigyn. It was necessary that I return here clandestinely.” 

For a moment, she merely stood there, looking at him, her face almost unreadable. Then she gave a soft cry and all but launched herself at him, winding her arms around his neck and holding him tightly, face buried in the crook of his neck. “I should… punch you in the face… but I find I have no heart to do so.” she whispered, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Oh, Loki… Loki, Loki, Loki…” she crooned his name over and over.

Loki was stunned by this outburst of affection, but he folded his arms around her and held her in an instinctive embrace. He had long looked on Sigyn as a friend, his closest friend, but he wasn’t so much a fool as to deny that that friendship had grown into something far more. It was only his desire that had sustained him these past days, giving him strength to maintain the illusion. His fears had not been of discovery by Thor, but of Sigyn…and her rejection of him as a schemer and liar, or even of being the murderer of Theoric. She might still, he thought, but she was hugging and kissing him in utter and sincere affection, and he found himself greedily holding on to the moment. 

She clung to him tightly for a bit longer before pulling back and standing full on her feet instead of on her toes, her hands slid to his shoulders, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. She was smiling though, one hand cupping his cheek, fingers sliding into his hair.

She laughed suddenly, at herself for the most part. “Back from the dead and the only thing I can think to comment on is how much longer your hair is since the last time I saw you.” she said, to explain her mirth. She hugged him once more, head on his chest this time. “I’ve missed you, Loki. Terribly. Please, do not disappear on me again.”

“I’ll have to assume my mask for a little while longer,” he replied, holding her back but with a smile. “But only a small time; a very small time.” He drew her over to the empty fireplace, sitting on the hearth. “I cannot begin to explain all of this to you, Sigyn; so much has happened…” He looked up at her, his eyes still bright as emeralds but smudged beneath with fatigue. He couldn’t bear to go on for a moment; it was the realization that he had collected those transformed tears, the very ones that she had held just moments before, in what seemed like so long ago, and yes, so much had happened, that silenced him. 

"You do not need to tell me right now." she said, sitting down next to to him. One wave of her hand and a cheerful fire started in the hearth. "But you need rest, Loki… real rest." she said, looking around his neglected rooms. After two years, many of the surfaces were dusty. A few spells and she had things freshened up a bit, including his bed. "No one will come down this hall… and with the wards back in place, no one could get in anyway." she assured him. "Theoric will not be missed from any duties for a little while. And even if he is… if I am somewhat missing at the same time, no one will think anything unusual about that." She went to his bed, pulling down the blankets and gesturing for him to get under them. “I will keep watch over you… like I have before.”

“Theoric will be missed…eventually,” Loki argued. He looked at the bed and the turned down blankets with a certain want. “Sigyn, I need to ask something difficult from you,” he went on. “I didn’t want to deceive you, as I said before, but I did need to, and I still need to keep this deception up. But…you need to know…” he hesitated, very unlike him. “I do mean to go through with this marriage. I want you, Sigyn…no, I need you. You gave your consent to Theoric, not me, and I need to know you will…have me. For a husband. “ 

Sigyn looked down, blushing pink. ”I only said yes to him because… well… I was distracting him so that you and Thor could escape his detection. I honestly thought that… it was the best choice for me to stay in Asgard. I am not… in love with him. To be honest, I barely know him. He was stranded on Vanaheim with me while the Bifrost was broken… but I did not encourage his advances.” she said, feeling the need to explain why she had accepted Theoric’s suit in the first place. With Loki alive and now apparently intent on marrying her, it felt dishonest and even disloyal that she had promised her hand to Theoric at all. She swallowed hard, looking down. “I have, in truth, wanted nothing else for some time. I only felt that… perhaps I would not make a suitable princess… or queen… for you. And I did not think your eye ever sought me out with want.” she whispered before looking back up at him with gentle eyes. “Yes, Loki… I would be delighted and honoured to have you as my husband. And I will do my best to be a good wife to you… as well as remain a good friend.”

“I should have asked for your hand properly, but I think we can agree that propriety is not one of my strengths. It is no small thing to ask you to take a shape shifter for husband,” Loki replied, smiling. “And one that is so often at odds with all around him. But I cannot imagine that there is anyone more suited in all the realms for the burden. As for queen…you are most suited for it. And I am promised it by Odin himself. It is for this reason I need continue this charade; the Allfather has struck a bargain with me over the matter, and I would have him fulfill it.” Briefly he explained that Thor had refused the position, and what had transpired between him and Odin. “So, you see, I need your help in this, but it must be carefully done.” 

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “I am not terribly gifted at telling falsehoods… not in any believable way. But I daresay I am much better at simply leaving out crucial details that might give you away. I will tell the truth, but not necessarily the entire truth.” she nodded, thinking of what Frigga had told her right before her death… about Loki’s true parentage that even he and Odin did not know. She could use that to her advantage as well, if needed. If Frigga could keep something like that a secret, she could surely help Loki in this task. "What would you have me do, Loki?" she asked, expression open and eager to please him.

“Ever loyal Sigyn, I would have you marry me,” Loki said with a wide smile. “And there’s no need for falsehood if you truly mean to be my wife. It is only the form that will be different for a time.” He sat on the bed, patting the spot beside him for her. “You were willing to sacrifice much for my escape, Sigyn; that wasn’t lost on me. You would have married Theoric, wouldn’t you?” He lifted her face when she nodded, her eyes downcast. “Don’t worry that you will break your word to him, Sigyn; he is beyond the caring now,” he told her as gently as he could. Reaching behind him, he wrapped the blankets around them both, as he waited for her reaction to the news of Theoric’s death. She deserved to know, even if she suspected him of the guard’s murder. Loki realized bleakly that the idea would have likely crossed his mind, given how much he wanted her. He should have asked her long ago, he thought, before everything had fallen apart. 

"I suspected as much when I realized that you were taking his form." she sighed softly, disheartened to hear of his death, but nowhere near as distraught as she had been in response to Loki's death. "He was a good man. What happened?" she asked in honest question. The idea that Loki had killed him only barely crossed her mind. He would not have needed to go so far if he wanted to stop the marriage. No banns had been posted and neither she nor Theoric had any family to be involved. All Loki would have had to do was persuade Theoric to drop his suit. And Loki was nothing if not persuasive.

“I don’t know; he was dead when I found him on Svartalfheim. But it was a warrior’s death, that much was plain.” He drew the blanket a bit closer around him. “We will see that he is given an honorable funeral, when this is over. He deserves that much.” And he would mourn Frigga then, too, since he had been denied that before. But for the moment he had to set aside thoughts of her, of what had happened before, and think of what lay ahead. 

She nodded, shifting closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes, enjoying this moment of peace. “Yes. I would appreciate that. As would he, I imagine.” she said, sliding one hand into his hair, playing gently with the black locks. “I meant what I said, Loki… I have missed you keenly. There have been so many moments over the last two years that I wished I could share with you. You have never strayed far from my thoughts.”

She sighed softly. “I was told of what happened, of course. Jotunheim. Laufey. The fight on the Bifrost. And then the attack on Midgard. I know something terrible must have happened to you between those events… but that you have refused to speak of it. You need not tell me of it now… but I do hope, when you are ready, that you will tell me.”

He let her play with his hair, but at the mention of the past two years he found his fingers twitching nervously. He glanced sideways at her before admitting,” There are parts of it—after I fell—I don’t fully remember. I…was not myself.” He looked down at her. “How much were you told…about me?” 

She smiled gently, able to guess at what his worry was about. “I know you were born on Jotunheim and that you are Laufey’s biological son.” she assured him. “I know you are, at least in part, a Jotun. Your mother told me when I came back from Vanaheim.” she drew her fingers along his jawline, coaxing him to meet her gaze. “It matters not to me what the circumstances of your birth were. You are and always have been an Asgardian to me, Loki. You are my friend, my fiance, and you will soon be my husband. That is all that matters.”

Wordlessly Loki turned and embraced Sigyn, his eyes shining like deep green pools. For the first time in a very long time, there was some peace inside his heart, some small hope. He was part Jotun, although he would forever deny that aspect of his heritage, and he was a true shape shifter. Shifting was something quite different from the illusions he was capable of. To completely change one’s form down to the most elemental level, to contain his mind in a new form, was far more draining on him and he rarely used his innate ability. The illusions were far easier to achieve, and he was able to do so now with ease, but the risk was that magic was more easily detected, and not as complete. Knowing what he was risking in this scheme was daunting, but that Sigyn had chosen him, for himself, come what may, gave him some courage. She deserved to be a queen, he thought, she truly did. There was so much of Frigga’s training in her, but it was her own nature that drew him to her. Sigyn had always been the one to calm his fears, and now she would stand beside him, loyal as ever. 

From that horrible moment on Jotunheim when he first saw the truth on his own skin, to that moment, cloaked beneath a blanket in his old rooms with his childhood friend, he had felt so utterly alone, so lost and rejected, and had suffered so much pain and misery. He knew that would never leave him, and dreaded the possibility of any more to come, but he would fight with every part of his being to spare Sigyn the brunt of it, if only because he knew that he could not go on without her. 

***

The following weeks were something of a blur with wedding preparations and details and stolen glances at “Theoric”, her warmth towards him increasing quite a bit now that she knew the truth. Others around Sigyn, like Eir, who had taken on the role of her family, had commented on it: that Sigyn seemed for more like a blushing bride now than she had before. Sigyn was able to play off her earlier disinterest as a side-effect of grieving Frigga’s death.

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and warm and Sigyn awoke with a flutter in her heart. Near mid-morning, Eir came to set about the long process of ritual that entailed getting ready for her wedding. First, she was led to a special bath, scented with flowers and other special herbs meant to “purify” her for the ritual ahead. Eir, trying to keep a stern face (and mostly failing due to her gentle nature and the fact that the two women were both healers) told her about her wifely duties and how best to keep her man happy. The fact that this speech was not tailored to Theoric specifically, but more to men in general made it bearable.

Her hair was combed out, special care paid to preserving her thick curls. Flowers and more herbs were pinned into a sort of circlet. The rest of her hair was left to curl over her shoulders and down her back in shining ringlets. The process was quite time consuming and it was mid-afternoon by the time they were done with it.

Loki had endured his own preparation for the ceremony. It was not an easy task for him, either: as the groom, he had to be properly cleansed for the event, and was subject to a crowd of Theoric’s fellow guards drinking and making lewd suggestions regarding his responsibilities toward his soon-to-be wife while he suffered through the bath and dressing. It took all his power to stay focused on maintaining his external illusion, given the bawdy comments and the press of others. Theoric would have expected to have his friends around him, and this was part of the ritual, but Loki’s emotions were not as in check as he would have liked. He had considered simply shifting into Theoric’s form in full, but that would have been an even greater drain on him, and he needed all of his wits about him, if he was to see this succeed. 

It was Tyr who had taken the orphaned Theoric under his wing on Asgard, and the general was the one to present Theoric with a sword for the ceremony, as Theoric would not have had one from his own family. It was a tricky business, that, as Tyr had no love for Loki, and Loki was quite pleased when the unsuspecting Tyr fastened the sword to his side solemnly and addressed him like a son. It was almost a relief to be left alone with him after the crush of others. Loki stood on the balcony watching as the sun crossed the afternoon sky, hardly hearing Tyr as he droned on about family responsibility and honor and all the things he knew already, while waiting to be brought down to the gardens for the ceremony. 

There in the garden, the guests had assembled under the darkening sky, the hush as the ceremony began falling over all. Tyr took Loki by the elbow and drew him forward, leading him down the stairs and the long hallway to the garden gates, to walk down the path with all the assembly watching. Loki resisted the urge to twitch his fingers or cast a glamour over all to ease his procession, until he stood before the basin set on a stone altar, behind which stood Odin and Thor.. He drew out the shining blade that Tyr had buckled beside him and set it on the altar, then waited, motionless and eyes downcast. 

Behind him Hogan the Grim marched forward; as the representative of Vanaheim, he had been given the honor of standing for Sigyn’s kin. He held a sheathed sword before him on both outstretched hands. He stepped before the altar, and Odin and Thor. Presenting the scabbard before them, he bowed, placing the sword on the stones and then moved to the side.

All eyes turned to the gate behind him as Eir led in Sigyn. Turning to look down the path, Loki forced himself to keep still. Sigyn was beautiful, her long honey-gold tumble of curls falling like a golden tapestry over her shoulders, her face crowned with flowers and greenery and intricate hair combs. Her face was flushed and happy, her eyes still shyly darting up and around the crowd. Her dress was made of layers of green and gold, soft silk and velvet, and draped her curves in a way that made his heart race in want for her. Eir escorted her beside him, moving next to Hogun as Sigyn turned and stood facing him before the altar. She was the only one who knew the truth of the one who stood there, and Loki couldn’t help but let some small flash of his eyes show his identity, a mere blink, if only to show his eagerness. 

Loki took up the sword he had placed on the altar and presented it to Sigyn. “This blade I present in trust to your keeping, for the sons you will bear me,” he said. Sigyn received the sword, handing it carefully to Eir and took up the sword Hogun had placed on the altar, holding it out by the hilt to Loki. He took it from her and plucked up one of the pair of rings before the bowl, placing it on the pommel and offering it back to her. Smiling she took the ring and placed on her finger and took the blade the sword into her own hand once more. She placed the remaining ring in the same position and offered it back to him. He, too, removed the ring and placed it on his finger, and buckled the sword to his belt.

Odin spoke. “Know, all that here are gathered, that we have been charged to swear to the union of Theoric of Asgard and Sigyn of Vanaheim, foster-kin to the house of Odin. Know that the bride price and dowry has been paid, and that no contest was placed between them. Know they have asked for our blessing, and have agreed both to this union, which they will declare before all. Swear you to this oath, Theoric Odin-kin, that you would have this woman as possession to you, to defend and hold sacred, as help-mate and as wife?” 

“I do swear this oath before Odin All-father, that I take this one before me as wife,” Loki declared. 

“And swear you to this oath, Sigyn Frigga-Kin, that you would have this man as liege to you, to defend and hold sacred, as partner and as husband?’ Odin asked. 

“I do swear this oath before Odin All-father,” Sigyn answered steadily, her eyes locked on Loki’s, “ that I take this one before me as husband.” 

Odin took up a small bundle of fir-twigs from next to the basin and dipped it in the small pool of mead in the bowl. “All gathered here have heard their declaration, and I, Odin Allfather, do hereby bless this union, and bestow on them all the blessings of Frigga.” He sprinkled it over them, the small amber droplets sparkling like sweet-scented rain over them. “By the unbreakable oath of Odin All-father of Asgard and of the realms eternal, I declare you wedded in all eyes of the law. Seal your vows and drink sweet mead! Long may your union be blessed!” 

Loud cheers and clapping went up as they left, hand in hand, out of the garden to the feasting hall, the guests trailing merrily behind. They reached the wide doorway, and the entourage spread out in a wide half-circle around them. Loki drew the sword, holding it up defensively before him and taking Sigyn’s hand in his. Gathering her skirts in her other hand, she daintily stepped over the thresh-hold to the cheers of all, and he gave a happy yell, brandishing the sword high as he led her to their place of honor before the head table. 

The party began in earnest as the guests filed in and everyone took a place at the heavily laden tables. Sigyn took up the flagon of mead and filled the two-handled cup that had been placed on the table for them, offering it to Loki. “Good health and strength to you, my husband,” she said, “Drink!” 

Loki took the cup, smiling, raising it high. “To Odin,” he said, taking a sip before handing it back to her. “To Frigga,” she replied, and took her own sip. Shouts and toasts rang out around the hall, wishing them wealth, long life and healthy children. All around them the merry-making went on, loud and boisterous, even at the table above them, where Odin and Thor were seated. 

After some time, Loki leaned forward toward them. “A wondrous celebration is it not?” he declared to Thor, who grinned back at him, nodding. “It does much to cheer the people, after all their suffering.” Loki rose, taking up his goblet. “To the renewal of Asgard!” he cheered. Many answered the cheer with their own raised cups. “I have heard, my lord Thor that you will be returning to Midgard” he remarked, setting down the glass. “Do they champion our hero greater than Asgard?” 

“No,” Thor answered. “I have sworn an oath to defend all the realms, and have joined the company of their greatest warriors to that end.”

“An oath? Ah! Well, of course we honor our oaths, we Asgardians.” He took up his goblet once more. “Especially Odin, ruler of us all,” he said, raising it to Odin, who looked at him intently. “Odin will honor all his oaths, will he not?” 

Under the table, Sigyn put her hand on Loki’s knee, squeezing gently in warning. It would not be wise to put Odin on the spot any more than Loki was already going to. She knew he had to drop his disguise soon, before they were led to the wedding bower in the company of witnesses. Said witnesses would need to be able to say that they escorted Loki to the bed, not Theoric.

Odin raised an eyebrow at Theoric and nodded. “Indeed. My word is law and my oath is truth. When I promise something, it will be done.” he said, thinking perhaps Theoric was merely making certain the marriage itself was secure. All bridegrooms had nerves, after all.

“Glad to hear it,” Loki said, and the illusion of Theoric fell away in a ripple of greenish light. “Did not Odin say to me that if I would rule Asgard in his stead, if he would see my magic is as strong as I profess, and if I could show my illusions could fool even Thor—then would he will allow that I am worthy enough to be steward of Asgard in his stead?” Loki raised his face boldly to Odin. “I have fulfilled those terms twice over now, have I not?” 

The entire room turned from merriment to confused horror at the sight of Loki revealed in place of Theoric, Some screamed and gasped, but most froze, suddenly shocked to silence. Thor reared back in his seat as if he had seen a ghost. “Loki?” he gasped. “It cannot be! I held you lifeless in my arms on Svartalfheim! What sorcery is this?” He turned to Odin. “I swear to you, Father, I watched him die!” 

“You did, indeed, brother,” Loki replied. “And left my body in the black dust to rot.” He waved a dismissive hand. “A quarrel for a different time. I am speaking to Odin of our bargain.” 

Odin rose, fixing his single gaze on Loki. “We did have a bargain, yes. And its terms are fulfilled. But what of this smaller matter here? You have seduced an innocent woman in this scheme, and where is the one that would rightfully claim her hand?” 

“Sigyn is innocent still; there was no seduction,” Loki protested angrily. “Her betrothed is dead, and not by my hand! He died a warrior’s death in defense of Asgard, and I have already pledged to give him a proper funeral that he may enter Valhalla. I am the one who rightfully claims her, and we are bound together by your oath!”

Odin gave a small snort. “I would hear what Sigyn has to say on this, whether this claim is true and the oaths binding. It is she who is the one wronged in this.” 

Sigyn had remained still and passive throughout the reveal, though she kept a sharp eye for any sign of imminent violence. When Odin addressed her, she could not help the slight pinking of her cheeks as she stood up to address the All-father.

"If it pleases Your Majesty, forgive me my minor deceit. I have been aware that Loki was taking on Theoric’s form for some time now. He told me so, of his own volition, shortly after returning to Asgard. It is Loki Odinson who I have promised myself to from here and ever after." she said softly, before looking at Thor. "It is also my belief…" she began again, knowing that this was something even Loki did not yet know, "that Queen Frigga, may she rest in peace, foresaw that Loki and I would be together. Before her death, she told me that she had always seen that my future and Loki’s future would be entwined… but that she also saw Theoric. With this illusion in place, both of those prophecies have been fulfilled despite the fact that they previously seemed mutually exclusive of each other," she said in a soft voice, though clear enough for all to hear. "I have not been seduced. Nor has Loki forced me in any way to do his bidding in regard to his illusion. It is Loki that I have chosen to be my husband," she assured all present.

Loki looked at her in wonder at this revelation, astonished. He reached out for her hand, and she took it. 

“In her lifetime, never did I doubt the vision of Frigga,” Odin said. “Nor will I do so now. Loki is yours, Sigyn, and you are his. You should be lauded for your fidelity, lady; may your husband ever honor your loyalty!” Odin addressed Loki. “You have gained a rare treasure, Loki; do not tarnish or test it.”

“Sigyn has long been my loyal friend; I doubt not that she will prove to be a faithful wife,” Loki replied. 

Thor frowned. “See that you treat her properly, or by our mother’s memory, I will not spare you.” 

“You needn’t worry about that,” Loki replied. “I plan on being a most proper husband to her.” 

"And I will hold you to that." Sigyn smiled as Loki raised her hand to his lips in a tender kiss.

"If it pleases Your Majesty, I believe Loki has fulfilled his part of the bargain he struck with you. Might I humbly request that you announce the completion of it since all are assembled now?" she asked, looking to Odin and gently asking for what she knew Loki wanted. Honey would catch more flies than vinegar, as the saying went.

Odin nodded slowly. That Loki had fooled him this time did not sit well with him, but he supposed that it was an eloquent expression of how powerful his son had become. “Indeed. As always, a well-meant sweet word brings us all back to the matter at hand.” The echo of Gungnir hitting the marble floor drew all attention to Odin. “Here and now, let it be known that I name Loki Odinson as Steward to the Throne of Asgard in my absence. He is to be regarded and respected as such. I will also appoint Thor Odinson and Sigyn Frigga-kin as his advisors so that they might together aid Loki in his tasks, should he require it. In all other respects, Loki’s word will be treated as mine.” he said, giving a somewhat sharp look to Sif and the Warriors Three.

Hogun’s expression was always grim, and didn’t change at all during this announcement; Fandrall and Volstagg each had some concern. Lady Sif was glaring at Loki from the moment he was revealed and could barely keep her disgust in check. Yet she bowed her head to Odin, accepting the decree. 

“This is still a wedding,” Odin reminded everyone, with a clap of his hand on the table before him. “Let us continue the celebration!” The music struck up again, and the hall echoed once more with the songs and entertainment. Loki and Sigyn continued their meal, washed down with plenty of mead, but Loki had eyes only for her, hungry for things other than the feast. He would have to wait until the guests began to leave, taking the small cakes piled by the doorway with them, or they fell asleep in the hall from the carousing. 

Finally, Eir approached their table and took Sigyn’s hand. “Come, Lady Sigyn, let us prepare you for bed,” she said softly, and led her away. Thor came to stand by Loki, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“They must be given some time, and we will gather the witnesses to escort you,” he said, watching the healers leave. “if any remain sober enough,” he added with a grin. His face grew more solemn as he continued quietly. “I truly thought you dead, brother. “

“That’s twice you’ve been mistaken, brother,” Loki replied. “I wouldn’t make it a habit.” 

“The first time was a reasonable error,” Thor protested. “But on Svartalfheim…You were stabbed through the heart! There was no blood left in you; you died in my arms, before my own eyes! That was not one of your tricks.” 

“No, it wasn’t. I died.” 

“Then how--?” 

“Death didn’t want me,” Loki smirked, “yet. Besides, did you think I’d die without having my wedding?” He grinned. “You’ve seen her; a small thing like dying couldn’t prevent me from this night.”

Thor smiled back. “I had never hoped to see you so like yourself again, Loki. She will be a good wife to you.” 

“She will,” Loki agreed. He rubbed a long finger on the wood of the table. “Mother should be here to see this, though. It is as much her doing as any other.” Loki looked up at Thor. “He called me Odinson,” he said softly. “I suppose we can still be called brothers, then. Are you angry, brother, that I have done this?” 

“Taken a wife?”

“Taken the throne from you.” 

Thor sighed. “You did not take it from me, brother; I refused it. And none know as well as I what you have endured to gain it. Just remember I am sworn to protect all the realms, and I will do so even against you. But I’d rather not; you are more suited to it.” He pulled Loki up and embraced him. “Come; she is ready for you,” he said. 

***

Sigyn, meanwhile, had been helped out of her wedding finery until she was only wearing the silken shift that had been under everything else. Eir fussed with her hair, loosening it fully and re-combing some of the curls that had been pulled apart in order to form decorative plaits.

Although she stayed still and quiet for this preparation, Sigyn’s heart was racing, thumping hard in her chest. She had often dreamt of this night, of any night spent in Loki’s arms, decreed by law or otherwise. From a practical standpoint, a wedding night was essential in hopes of starting a child as soon as possible. For Loki, a prince and someday king of Asgard, siring a son was paramount. But from a far more spiritual perspective, one which Sigyn subscribed to far more closely, this would be the final act to bind them together, body and soul. Even between two more mundane beings, this union was drought with symbolism. But she and Loki were both magic-users and there was no way to predict how they would meld together in that respect. Part of her feared that something would be off; that her power would be completely overwhelmed by his admittedly far more powerful magic. That he would find her lacking in any manner. It was a silly fear, perhaps. Frigga had seen them together, so they must be compatible on all counts.

Once Eir had finished, she helped Sigyn lay down on the bed, instructing her to simply lie still for a moment. Herbs and flowers were hung around the entire bower and on the bed, filling the space with an earthy, heady scent. Herbs for love, for prosperity, for fertility.

The flickering light of the six torches held aloft by the witnesses escorting Loki to the room danced along the walls. Flanked three by three, Loki was led to the doorway. Eir opened the door to them, and they filed in, filling the room with a shimmering golden haze. Loki stepped through the door, eyes like bright green flames, focused entirely on the sight of Sigyn. Thor stepped beside them and raised his torch, illuminating both Loki and Sigyn, and nodded to the others, who nodded back. With a single graceful movement, Loki unbuckled his belt and sword, and handed it to Thor, who took it and led the others out. Eir gave one last glance inside at the newlyweds before sealing the door. The witnesses’ footfalls faded away, and there was a welcome moment of silence.

Loki took a deep breath and whispered out her name like a prayer. “Sigyn…” Part of him wanted hold the vision of her waiting for him forever in his mind, to relish the moment for as long as possible, while the more base part of him wanted no part in waiting. He wanted this, he wanted her, needed her, more than he could ever think of wanting before. He watched her as he pulled off the ornate groom’s robe and tunic, kicking off the shoes and fumbled at the trouser fastenings. “Sigyn…” He shed the last of his clothes and left them discarded on the floor as he moved toward the bed. 

Sigyn shivered in anticipation, sitting up and reaching for him, her eyes traveling appreciatively over his body. She’d always known he was tall and lithe, but this was the first she’d seen him in any state of undress since Sleipnir’s birth. Unlike Thor, who barely needed an excuse to parade about without his shirt on, Loki was more modest. His shoulders had broadened since she last saw him, body made up of lithe, powerful muscle and pale skin. He bore a few scars here and there that made her curious, but now was not the time to question him.

Once he came closer, she blushed hotly, smiling up at him with eager eyes. Swallowing hard, she loosened the laces holding her shift in place, the straps falling over her freckled shoulders. Looking down shyly, she slid the garment down and off, having to stand up to discard it entirely without tangling it up with her legs.

“Sigyn…” he sighed again, eyes wandering over her body, “you are…so beautiful…” He reached out to trace his fingers along her arms and shoulders, across the gentle slope of her collarbones, the bend of her neck. He lifted her chin to have her look at him, cupping her face in his hands, pushing back the drape of her streaming hair. He brushed her lips and cheeks with his thumbs, and leaned in to kiss her gently, so careful, on her forehead. 

He was afraid for a moment, afraid he would do something wrong and hurtful in the rush of his need. This was Sigyn, his shy and compassionate friend, the one who always looked up to him, who had followed him into every childhood prank and trick without question. It was Sigyn who had held him and sang to him even when he had wanted to forget being abused and lost and trapped, wanted to sleep away the pain and shame. It was Sigyn he had thought of protecting first, had sent her away when all he had wanted to do was to keep her close. It was her, and it had always been her, and he could hardly contain the tears brimming in his eyes as he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. 

She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip when he spoke. While she had never thought of herself as ugly or plain, she’d never considered herself to be beautiful either. With a deep breath, she leaned closer, tilting her head slightly and pressing her lips against Loki’s, sliding one hand into his black hair. A small moan escaped her, the mere touch of her husband’s mouth making her lips tingle. The gentle kiss was brief, but she did not move back when it ended, staying with her lips only a hair’s breadth away from his, their shaking breath mingling.

"Loki…" she said his name in a reverent whisper before leaning in for another kiss. Every touch was light and gentle, but fraught with need. "Loki… Loki… Loki…" his name became a soft chant between each kiss. She laid one hand flat against his chest, smiling when she felt how quickly his heart was beating. "You are as eager as I." she said, leading one of his hands between her breasts so he could feel her heartbeat as well.

“Your heart,” he whispered. He knelt down, pressing his ear to her to hear it. His palm cupped around her breast, and he rolled it gently in his hand. His other arm strayed behind her, to the small of her back, fingers splayed and holding her to him, and he rested against her with a contented sound. “Are you eager then, Sigyn my wife?” he asked. 

She smiled, one hand in his hair and the other resting on the back of his neck. “Was there any doubt in your mind?” she whispered against his hair, tilting her hips and arching her back slightly to press more firmly against him. “I have long wanted you… in my arms and in my bed.” she admitted.

With a tender passion, she pressed soft kisses to his hair and forehead, coaxing him to look up at her. “You have long been my friend, Loki… and neither you nor I make friends easily. I suppose it only natural for us to… desire each other as well?” she said, although it came out as a question, as though she wasn’t certain if he wanted her or not despite ample evidence.

He stared up at her. “I didn’t know,” he answered simply. “Or, rather, I didn’t dare hope for it. I know what others think of me, Sigyn; have thought of me for many years. I am a shape shifter; I am not bound to this form by my nature, and most are discomfited by my ability. Add my talents with magic, and it is any wonder that I questioned any possibility of marriage, and certainly not to my closest friend? You are the gentlest being in all the realms, Sigyn, and I am often not gentle.” 

"I have never been alarmed by your skills. From the very first moment I met you, I was enchanted by your magic, do you remember?" she smiled, fingers gently smoothing through his hair, unable to stop touching him. "And I know you have a reputation for some manner of cruelty, but you have never been cruel to me." she assured him. "I trust you, Loki. With my life, my body, and my heart." she whispered to him before drawing him up into another gentle kiss. "You are mine and I am yours. This, above all things, will never change."

Loki bent over her, kissing her mouth around her words. Tears filled his eyes, and he slid them closed before they fell. He lifted her to stand against him, his hands holding her, his mouth seeking hers again and again. He could feel her heart race against his, matching his own urgency, and he kissed along her jaw and neck, tasting her need in every pulse beneath her skin. 

She made a small sound in the back of her throat as she melted against him, clinging to his shoulders when her knees threatened to give out. “Loki…” she all but sang his name, her breath warm against his ear. Flush against him, she could feel he was indeed ready and eager for her, his hard length pressed against her belly. The proof of how much he wanted her was eloquent enough,

"Please…" she whispered, just one, sweet, pleading word before she slid her arms around his neck and drew him down into a hungry kiss."We have a wedding night to celebrate, husband-mine… and I would have you sated and heavy in my arms before dawn."

Loki smiled, blinking, and lifted her onto the bed, laying her back. He crawled in next to her, kissing her, letting his hands trace over her curves until it reached lower. His fingers teased along the hidden recesses of her body, and he folded his long limbs around her, holding her to him as he pressed close. With his other hand he toyed with her breasts, eager to bring her pleasure as her small movements and sounds aroused him all the more.

She gasped, spreading her legs wider for for him, giving him room to maneuver how he liked. One hand grasped at the soft sheets beneath her, the other arm was around Loki, the flat of her palm pressed between his shoulder blades. “Ohh… Loki…” she crooned his name, turning her face so that it was tucked against the crook of his neck, lips seeking out his pulse point to kiss it gently. Without conscious effort on her part, her hips rocked up against his questing fingers. Gentle sounds of pleasure tinged each breath, sweet, high moans.

His fingers quested through each petal-like fold, wet with her slickness, and stroked from the warm depths to the crowning pearl, urging her to move against his hand. He was relentless, his motions growing more frantic as her pleasure rose to his touch, his own body aching for her. 

Her hips trembled, tilting up, seeking more of his touch, shamelessly crying out in her pleasure. Shy and proper though she was in the public eye, she had far less compulsion to restrain herself within the bounds of propriety. She writhed and trembled against him, nails digging into his skin as she clung to him, muffling her cries against his shoulder. Her insides clenched down on him in tight pulses as she came undone, all but screaming his name. If anyone had lingered outside of the door to listen to them, there would be absolutely no doubt as to what was happening within.

Afterwards, she curled against him, still shaking like a leaf from her first taste of pleasure at the hands of another. “Loki…” she purred his name, her breath hot against the soft skin under his ear.

He shivered against her, pleased, and gave a low growl against her neck as he rolled over, kneeling between her legs. He rose above her, pulling her hands to his body, inviting her to explore. He followed her progress with his own hands, letting her feel the full extent of his arousal. 

She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, cheeks still flushed and pink as she allowed him to guide her. Gentle fingertips slid over his skin, over his chest and taut belly and lower, fingers curling around his length. Looking down curiously, she let out a breath. “Ohh… Loki…” she whispered, stroking him experimentally, smiling when that prompted a soft moan from his throat. Stars, he sounded wonderful. His voice was low and smooth normally… but in passion, there was a new edge to it that made her insides tighten eagerly.

With a very tentative pull, she coaxed him down atop of her, spreading her legs and curling them up along either side of his hips. “Take me, beloved. Make me yours.” she whispered, one hand stroking his cheek.

Loki needed no further urging. He shifted his weight to press up against her, stroking himself along the place his fingers had traveled before. With a gentle push he was inside, seating the length within her slowly until he couldn’t go further, and he rocked back with a strangled moan as Sigyn held him and drew him back down within her. He grasped her hips up to him, continuing this dance as his urgency began to build. 

The frantic pace reached up and grabbed at him, and he fell down into the driving need that thrummed through every fiber of his being. He was drowning in her, in his own lust, and room around him slipped away, and he was lost, lost in memory…

..when all was so cold, burning cold and there were no stars, and there was no air to pull into his lungs, but there was this stolen need and he was drained and he was lost, so lost, and there were creatures in the dark monsters in the dark and they claimed him…

…and his skin was not his own and his mind was not his own and there was pain so much pain and he bent his back to it and his will to it and he smiled and laughed at the pain…

…And he gasped and cried and gasped again, breathing, breathing, and then screaming, and there was nothing holding him together, all of his atoms scattered, his thoughts shattered and he fought to stay whole and here, in her, with her.. Sigyn Sigyn Sigyn..! 

Sigyn gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders, feeling the cold rush of his magic over her skin, the greenish light emanating off of him in random pulses. Her breath came in startled gasps as she tried to make sense of it; a strange, tremulous tingling beginning in her heart. In her attempts to figure out what was happening to her Loki, she nearly missed the golden light starting to rise from her own skin, mingling and curling with Loki’s magic. Her own magic was meeting and melding with his. Never before had her magic been released without her having to concentrate with all of her might. But now, it seemed to be rising instinctively in response to his distress.

"Loki." her voice whispered into his ear, holding him tightly. He was physically there, thrusting and panting… but his mind was clearly elsewhere, and not a pleasant elsewhere at that. "Loki, easy, my love… easy, calm yourself, close your eyes and breath. Do not move… just breath. I’m here… I’m here and you’re here with me… and we’re both safe." As much as her body was aching for release, craving the spill of his seed inside of her, she knew this was far more important. She stroked his back and shoulders, smoothed back his dark hair and caressed the back of his neck. Curling her legs up and around him. “You are safe, beloved. I swear to you that you are safe in my arms.” she assured him.

Loki’s power hummed around them like a swarm of bees, and he slowed, lashes falling over his panicked eyes, his breath ragged. Sigyn’s magic glowed against his pale skin, like ripples of gold. The ache in her grew stronger, crashing through her in a second tide of pleasure, as she held him in her arms and the rest of her body. 

Loki’s eyes flew open, the dark depths of them shining from the green streaks of magic dancing over his skin. He was a wild, savage thing filling her body, held in her arms as her golden light wove into his. Undulating against her, inside her, Loki moved again, and he was present again, feeding on the magic, the power of them both, and he threw back his head in a triumphant howl as he burst in a fertile rush within her. Glittering green sparks flew up like jade-tinted embers from the warm amber glow still bathing over them. Head falling back forward, Loki sank down on his forearms with a shaking sob, cradled in Sigyn’s calming embrace. 

Sigyn nearly wept from the sheer pleasure and overwhelming intimacy of their love-making, holding Loki tightly, panting hard as residual waves of pleasure slid within her. She could no longer form words for the moment, clinging to him and pressing her heated cheek against his. Gentle, trembling fingers petted through his hair, now damp with sweat, in an effort to calm him.

When she felt hot tears on her neck, she gave a quiet cry of sympathy, shifting all of her attention on him rather than continuing to relish her own completion. “Loki… beloved, are you all right?” she asked, tender hands stroking his face and hair, coaxing him to lift his head and look at her. When he did, she leaned up, kissing the tears from his cheeks. “Oh, Loki… my poor love…” she sighed. “What is the matter?”

Shaking his head and wiping his eyes, he rolled out of her embrace to lie on the sheets beside her. It was their wedding night, and their first act of intimacy, and he couldn’t bear the thought that he had spoiled it. How could he possibly explain to her what he had just felt? A feeling of wretchedness welled up in him, and his familiar anger. What a fool he had been to think he could live as anyone else! Poor Sigyn was now bound to him by love and law, and she would suffer alongside him. And what he had remembered had sickened him, the knowledge of what had been stolen from him and what had been formed in consequence…knowing that it was through him that all of existence would be in torment and destruction…What would that do to his loyal Sigyn, she who could sooth away this savage beast and heal the poison dripping in his mind? He was what he had always been, but there was still that lurking presence deep in the dark recesses of his brain, waiting to tug on those bonds burned into his psyche. It corrupted everything pure and whole, and he was determined that he would protect Sigyn, even if he was tormented a thousand lifetimes for it. 

He didn’t doubt her strength. He knew she was a resolute creature, with all the inner resolve and fire that rarely showed but was blazingly bright when it did. But would it be enough to withstand the onslaught he had seen to come? He could only hope. 

He turned his head to her. She looked so concerned, worried even, and even that small pain was unbearable to him. “Yes, Yes, I’m all right, beloved Sigyn,” he said, smiling at her. He brushed at her forehead, pushing away the damp curls that had fallen in her face. “I don’t think anyone will question our consummation, will they?” he added with a wink. “But we can always try again, to be certain. Shall we go for twins?” He laughed, pushing away his dark thoughts with his mirth, gathering her up in his arms. Rocking her happily, he planted quick little kisses along her skin. 

"That is not how it works." she laughed softly, curling against him, giggling at the tickling kisses he was showering her with. She did not believe him. Loki did not weep without severe provocation… and the way he’d had some kind of… flashback or something… she knew it had to do with what happened to him in the Void. It had to. What else could it be? Yet, she did not want to demand answers from him. She returned his gentle kisses, winding her legs with his, and holding him tightly. “Hoping to keep me busy with a baby already?” she teased him. “I think it might be a better idea to get used to being husband and wife before we progress on to being parents.” she said, her voice light, but her meaning a bit more firm. Yes, it was her wifely duty to give him sons… preferably as soon as possible. But she wanted a bit of time to focus on being his wife before she had to shift into being mother to his children.

She licked her lips, looking up at him with soft eyes. “Loki, please… I know something happened there… what was it? You know you can tell me. Whatever it is… we’re in this together. You and me.” she took his face in her hands, keeping his gaze. “We are one, my love… you do not need to tell me right now, perhaps… but please, do not leave me in the dark about something so important.”

He sighed and sat up, pulling the blanket over them. The fire had been banked in the room, and the firelight was dim. “You’ve given me so much in this, Sigyn; you should at least have your wedding night undisturbed,” he remarked. “But I suppose it’s too late for that. And I should have brought this up long before now, but there was never the correct time. 

“When I fell…into the heart of Yggdrasil” he began, unsure how to begin, “there was no clear thought in my mind. I believed only that I would perish there, and I welcomed it.” He looked saddened. “I hope you can forgive me for not considering you at that moment. I had sent you away to keep you safe…and because I knew you would try to dissuade me from my choice to pursue the destruction of Jotunheim. It does not matter now, of course, but I didn’t care at that point whether I lived or not.

“I wish I could say that I regretted that as soon as I fell. I did not; quite the opposite—I wish I had died once I gained some semblance of awareness.” He stared into the embers, unseeing. “It was some time before that happened, though. I told you before that I did not recall much of that time…until now.” He paused, still shaken. “I thought I would shatter across all existence in the void. But I didn’t.” 

“I remember…vaguely…falling on Jotunheim. But it was not now; the sky was wrong, the stars were in different positions in the sky, too dark…I was…not myself, I was…” he looked at Sigyn, eyes hurt and dark. “I am at least in part Jotun, and that was what I was. But I had no conscious thought; it was like I was shifted into something so primal there was no thought. Something happened there, something…terrible…” He shuddered. “There were others, Jotuns…” he shook his head. “We…they---“ he gulped, not able or willing to bring what had happened to light. 

Sigyn thought back to the images she had seen behind her eyelids before she had soothed Loki and brought him back to his place in her bed. More than just images… there had been sensations… ones she had mistaken for her own in a way. Thrusting and aching and need… but a dark, destructive need. Gnashing teeth and gleaming yellow eyes, a wolf’s snarling howl. The sinuous twist of a serpentine body, scales cold and smooth as water. A girl, so incongruous amidst all of the violence and chaos--until she turned and the sight of a long-dead corpse was revealed…

"Oh, stars… Loki…" she whispered, holding him more tightly. He had been tortured, that she knew. But that he had, apparently, also been forced to sire such creatures had never even crossed her mind. Small wonder the act of consummating their marriage had brought all of this back! She held him close, pressing feather-light kisses to his neck and jawline. Two fingers slid to his lips, quieting him. "Hush… you need not speak of it. T’is over and done and you are no longer that person. You are Loki of Asgard… son of Odin and Frigga… brother to Thor… husband to me."

Loki bristled slightly at the mention of Odin as his father, but kissed her fingers and drew them away. “I wasn’t myself then, more truthfully. But it is not over and done, Sigyn; those monsters are my children, just as much as Sleipnir, but they…they will bring the end of all. My madness on Jotunheim was only the start of it.” He fell silent, not wanting to go on about the past two years, but knowing he must. “You’ve bound yourself to a madman, Sigyn. I cannot be fully healed from it any more than I can repair what damage I’ve already done. And there will be times…” He sighed. “I do not have Frigga’s sight, but I dread it, what I’ve begun. At least, now, with you, I can have some hope.”

"You will never be exactly as you were before. You will never again be the boy I met in your mother’s garden. But that does not mean you have changed so much that I do not love you." she whispered. "I might not be able to fix you as good as new. But I can still mend and heal. There will be scars, but you are stronger for them." she assured him. "We’ll do it together, Lucky." she said, falling back on his old nickname. "We will face it. Head on. Together."

***Finis *** 

 


End file.
